LIBRA.RY 


OP   THE 


Theological   Seminary, 

PRINCETON,    N.J. 


Case,,, 

Shelf, 

Book, 


BV  2855  .M47  1873^'''"^^' 
Merivale,  Charles,  1808 

The  conversion  of  the 
northern  nations 


THE    CONVERSION 

OP 

THE    NORTHEEN    NATIONS 


"^%J^ 


THE    COISrVEE'^ip"^©^^^ 


THE  NOETHERl  NATIONS. 


BOYLE     LECTUEES 

FOR    THE    YEAR    1865 
DELIVERED    AT    TEE    CHAPEL    ROYAL,     WHITEHALL. 


BY 

CHARLES    MERIYALE,    B.D., 


RECTOR  OF  LATTFOED  ;   CHAPLAIN  TO  THE  SPEAKEE  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  COMMONS. 
ATJTHOB.  OF  "  A  DISTOEY  OF  THE  ROMANS  TTNDEE  THE  EMPIEE." 


NEW  YORK : 
D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY, 

5  49    &    551    BROADWAY. 

1873. 


PEEFACE 


The  discourses  wliicli  were  delivered  at  the 
Boyle  Lecture  in  the  present  year  were  intended 
to  be  a  continuation  of  tliose  of  the  year  preced- 
ing, on  tlie  Conversion  of  the  Roman  Empire.  It 
had  been  justly  remarked  that  in  my  earlier  course 
I  had  treated  principally  of  the  preparation  of  the 
heathen  world  for  the  reception  of  Christianity, 
and  had  said  too  little  of  the  progress  of  thought 
and  opinion  among  the  Christians  themselves, 
which  led  to  that  development  of  Nicene  theology 
to  which  I  had  pointed  as  the  goal  of  Pagan  con- 
version. Without  pledging  myself  at  the  time  to 
carry  on  my  historical  view  to  the  conversion  of 
the  Northern  Nations,  such  had  been  from  the  first 
my  wish  and  distant  object ;  and  I  already  con- 
templated giving  such  a  sketch  of  the  progress  of 
dogma  within  the  Church  as  might  correspond 
with  that  of  the  revolution  of  religious  opinion 


O  PREFACE. 

without  it.  I  make  this  remark  now,  suj^erfluous 
though  it  may  perhaps  be,  in  order  to  explain  why 
a  series  of  discourses,  to  which  I  have  given  the  gen- 
eral title  of  the  ^  Conversion  of  the  Northern  Na- 
tions,' commences  with  three  at  least,  the  subject  of 
which  may  seem  more  closely  connected  with  the 
earlier  course  than  with  the  present.  But  in  fact  I 
wish  the  two  little  volumes  to  be  regarded  as  one 
w^ork ;  and  if  at  some  future  time  I  may  have  the 
opportunity  of  printing  them  together,  I  shall 
probably  give  them  the  general  title  of  the  ^  Con- 
version of  the  Ancient  Heathens.' 

The  main  object  of  both  these  courses  of  lec- 
tures has  been  to  impress  upon  the  hearer  or 
reader  the  conviction,  which  must  be  ever  present 
to  the  mind  of  one  who  is  accustomed  to  study 
the  broad  features  of  human  history,  of  the  grad- 
ual and  constant  prej)aration  of  mankind,  from 
the  earliest  known  periods  of  antiquity,  for  the 
full  development  of  religious  life  under  the  reve- 
lation of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  well  to  hold  fast  the 
assurance  of  the  continuity  of  God's  providence 
in  the  spiritual  guidance  of  our  species ;  to  be  con- 
vinced that,  as  we  can  discover  no  entirely  new 
creation  in  the  progress  of  material  things  since 


PEEFACE. 


the  first  beginning  we  can  trace  of  them,  so  neither 
has  there  been  any  entirely  new  moral  or  religions 
revelation  vonchsafed  to  ns.  The  same  God  has 
been  over  all  His  works,  both  the  material  and  the 
spiiitual,  from  the  beginning,  animating,  amend- 
ing, informing,  indoctrinating  His  moral  creation, 
from  time  to  time,  in  an  appointed  order  and  se- 
quence, but  never  entirely  breaking  with  the  past, 
and  effecting  a  new  creation  without  using  the  ma- 
terials of  the  old.  Our  religion  is  an  historical 
one :  it  is  the  history  of  religious  progress.  The 
Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament  tes- 
tify to  a  progressive  development  of  Divine  Truth. 
The  verities  imparted  to  the  patriarchs  are  still 
the  foundation  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ; 
and  the  religious  notions  of  the  Heathens,  which 
seem  to  be  themselves  corruptions  of  the  verities 
imparted  to  the  patriarchs,  or  dim  reflections  of 
that  Light  which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh 
into  the  world,  may  well  deserve  to  be  regarded 
with  interest,  to  be  criticized  with  love  and  even 
with  reverence.  As  in  my  former  lectures  I 
thought  it  right  and  just  to  show,  as  far  as  I  might, 
the  elements  of  truth  and  goodness  disseminated 
among  the  benighted  votaries  of  the  imperial 
schools  and  temples,  so  in  these  I  have  not  shrunk 


8  PREFACE. 

from  indicating  tlie  thread  of  moral  and  religious 
feeling  wliicli  runs  tlirougli  the  grovelling  super- 
stitions and  intellectual  darkness  even  of  the 
Northern  barbarians. 

My  limits,  indeed,  have  been  extremely  nar- 
row, and  I  cannot  but  acknowledge  that  I  leave 
the  subject,  even  in  the  rude  sketch  to  which  the 
conditions  of  the  place  and  the  occasion  confined 
me,  to  the  full  as  imperfect,  and  as  abruptly  con- 
cluded, as  that  to  which  I  applied  myself  in  the 
preceding  year.  If  I  seem  to  any  to  have  trifled 
with  a  matter  of  real  importance,  I  can  only  throw 
myself  again  on  the  indulgence  which  was  before 
extended  to  me,  while  I  hope  at  least  that  even 
such  slight  sketches  as  these  may  suffice  to  awaken 
an  interest  in  the  subject,  in  the  minds  of  some 
who  have  ability  and  learning  to  prosecute  it  more 
worthily. 


COI^TEI^^TS 


LEOTUEE  I.     (Page  11.) 

THE   PHILOSOPHICAL  VIEW  OP   CHEIST's  EEVELATION  :    JUSTIN 

MAETTE   AXD    CLEMENT    OF    ALEXANDEIA. 

1  Corinth,  ix.  3. 

Ifine  answer  to  them  that  do  examine  me  is  this. 


LECTURE   II.     (Page  31.) 

THE     PEACTICAL    VIEW    OP   CHEISt's     EEVELATION  I     TEETUL- 

LIAN   AXD    OEIGEX. 

1  Corinth  is.  3. 

3Ii7i€  answer  to  them  that  do  examine  me  is  this. 


LECTURE  m.     (Page  48.) 

DOGMATIC   INFEEENCES   FEOM-  CHEIST's   EEVELATION  I    ATHA- 

NASIUS   AND   AUGUSTINE. 
COLOSS.  II.  8,  9,  10. 

Beware  lest  any  man  spoil  you  through  philosophy  and  vain  deceit^  after  the 
tradition  of  men,  after  the  rudiments  of  the  xoorld,  and  not  after  Christ' 

For  in  Him  divelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily.  And  ye  are 
complete  in  Him. 


10  C02sTENTS. 

LECTURE  IV.    (Page  66.) 

KELAPSE    OF   CHRISTIAN  BELIEF   AND   PEAOriCE. 

1  Samuel  ii.  12. 

They  hieiv  not  the  Lord. 


LECTURE  V.     (Page  86.) 

PREPARATION   OF  THE   NOETHEEN   NATIONS   FOR  THE    RECEP- 
TION   OF    CHRISTIANITY. 

St.  Luke  i.  80. 

And  the  child  grew  and  loaxed  strong  in  spirit,  and  was  in  the  deserts  till  the 

day  of  his  shoiving  unto  Israel. 


LECTURE  VL    (Page  109.) 

CONVERSION   OF  THE   NORTHERN   NATIONS. 

Matt.  vir.  29. 

For  He  taught  them  as  one  having  authority. 


LECTURE  YJL     (Page  130.) 
THE    NORTHERN   SENSE    OF   PERSONAL   RELATION   TO    GOD. 
Ephesians  IV.  13. 
Till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  Faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son 
of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stattire  of  the  ful- 
ness of  Christ. 


LECTURE  Vm.     (Page  150.) 
THE   NORTHERN   SENSE    OF   MALE    AND   FEMALE    EQUALITY. 

Galatians  IV.  4. 
But  when  theft'ness  of  time  tvas  come,  God  sent  forth  His  Son,  made  of  a 


LECTUEE   I. 

THE    PHILOSOPHICAL    VIEW    OF    CHRIST'S    REVELATION: 
JUSTIN  MARTYR  AND  CLEMENT  OF  ALEXANDRIA. 

1    COEINTH   IX.    3. 

Mine  answer  to  them  that  do  examine  me  is  this. 

The  discourses  I  delivered  in  this  place  last  year  were 
meant  to  recommend  the  truth  of  the  Christian  Eeligion 
from  regard  to  the  influence  it  exerted  on  the  mind  and 
conscience  of  the  Pagans  under  the  Koman  Empire. 
To  them,  as  I  then  showed,  it  approved  itself  a  message 
of  love  and  peace  ;  it  explained  their  sense  of  weariness 
and  disgust  with  life  ;  it  probed  their  hearts,  and  disclosed 
to  them  the  full  iniquity  of  sinfulness ;  it  aroused,  and 
again  it  allayed,  their  spiritual  terrors ;  it  set  God  before 
them  in  his  moral  and  spiritual  nature ;  it  showed  them 
the  beauty  of  holiness  upon  earth,  and  led  their  hopes  and 
aspirations  onwards  to  the  consummation  of  holiness  here- 
after in  a  future  life  conformed  to  His  image  who  is  Him- 
self the  Holy  One  and  the  Just. 


12  LECTUKE   I. 

That  tlie  inference  I  snggested  from  these  considera- 
tions is  by  no  means  conclusively  established  by  them  I 
could  not  be  unaware.  To  show  that  the  Gospel  harmo- 
nizes with  the  feelings  of  human  nature  could  be  no  direct 
proof  of  its  direct  and  special  revelation  from  God. 
The  argument,  it  has  been  said,  is  two-edged.  If  it  be 
urged,  on  the  one  hand,  that  God  sent  His  message  to  men 
purposely  in  such  a  form  as  would  naturally  attract  and 
convince  the  beings  whom  He  meant  to  save  by  it, — on 
the  other  hand  it  may  be  contended  that  the  correspond- 
ence of  the  Gospel  with  man's  wants  and  wishes  shows 
how  possibly,  how  probably,  man  may  have  invented  it 
for  himself. 

This  objection  is  an  obvious,  and  no  doubt  a  plausible 
one.  That  tliere  is  some  force  in  it  we  must  admit ;  for 
otherwise  the  argument  on  the  Christian  side  would 
amount  to  a  demonstration,  a  conclusion  to  wdiich  God 
in  His  inscrutable  wisdom  has  not  allowed  any  of  the 
moral  arguments  in  favor  of  revelation  to  arrive. 

But  if  we  admit — which  is  more  than  can  be  required 
of  us — that  the  conscience  of  some  among  the  imcon- 
verted  heathens  was  as  deeply  moved  as  that  of  the  true 
believers  : — that  Seneca,  for  instance,  felt  the  same  deep- 
grounded  conflict  between  the  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  as 
St.  Paul ;  that  Aurelius  yearned  with  the  same  tender 
love  towards  God  and  man  as  the  disciple  whom  Jesus 
Himself  loved  ;  that  Epictetus  or  Dion  was  as  bold  and 
ardent  in  the  assurance  of  his  faith  as  Peter : — if  we 
allow  that  all  the  fulness,  all  the  strength  of  the  Chris- 


AEGUMEXT   FEOM   ADAPTATION.  13 

tian  character  are  shown  forth  (which  is  surely  going  far 
bejoncl  the  mark)  in  one  virtuous  Heathen  or  another  : 
— does  it  follow  that  because  Seneca  was  thus  haply 
moved  by  nature,  Paul  therefore  was  not  moved  by  grace ; 
because  the  Platonists  and  the  Stoics  were  mere  human 
teachers,  the  Church  of  Christ  has  no  higher  sanction  for 
its  teaching,  no  hoher  Spirit  to  animate  it,  than  they 
had  ?  ISTot  so  :  Seneca  lived,  and  preached,  and  died  in 
his  faith,  and  left  no  seed  after  him.  Aurelius  lived,  and 
preached,  and  died  in  his  faith,  and  left  no  seed  after  him. 
The  Stoics  and  the  Platonists  lived  and  preached,  and 
they  died  in  their  faith  ;  but  they  too  left  no  seed  after 
them.  There  was  evidently  something  wanting  to  them, 
some  principle  of  force  to  convince  and  constrain  men, 
some  power  creative  of  new  feelings  and  impulses,  some 
harmony  with  God,  some  sympathy  with  the  grace  pro- 
ceeding from  His  Spirit. 

We  may  trace,  then,  among  the  holy  men  of  Pagan- 
ism a  certain  receptivity  of  Gospel  truth  ;  but  we  cannot 
trace,  I  think,  any  power  to  imagine  and  invent  it.  If 
so,  the  argument  for  Christianity  from  its  manifest  adap- 
tation to  the  wants  of  the  age  to  which  it  was  first  ad- 
dressed has  its  proper  force.  It  is  to  be  used  temperately, 
to  be  guarded  cautiously ;  but  it  is  not  to  be  surrendered 
at  a  captious  demand  ;  it  is  not  to  be  discarded  weakly 
and  distrustfully.  It  has  done  good  service  at  all  periods 
of  the  great  Christian  controversy,  and  it  will  still  con- 
tinue to  serve  us.  It  gains  force  by  accumulation,  it 
strengthens  itself  with  time. 


14  LECTURE   I. 

The  men  of  tliouglit  and  feeling  among  the  Heathens 
of  the  Empire,  whose  conversion  was  one  of  the  iirst 
great  triumphs  of  Christian  truth,  were  not  the  only 
generation  or  class  of  men  who  have  recognized  the 
harmony  between  human  longings  and  divine  teachings. 
God  has  spoken  to  man  through  His  Church  at  sundry 
times  and  in  divers  manners,  appealing  here  to  the  edu- 
cated and  intellectual,  there  to  the  rude  and  uncultivated, 
here  to  the  hopes,  there  to  tlie  fears  of  men,  here  to  the 
sober  though tfulness  of  a  fixed  and  mature  civilization, 
there  to  the  buoyant  ardour  of  a  wandering  forest-tribe ; 
and  in  all  these  and  other  phases  of  human  society,  He 
has  found  witnesses  to  the  agreement  of  His  Truth,  and 
of  His  Trutli  only,  w^ith  the  common  needs  and  yearn- 
ings of  His  creatures.  We  cannot  say  that  he  has  raised 
Himself  such  witnesses  everywhere.  There  is  perhaps  no 
harder  trial  of  our  faith  than  the  fact  of  the  apparent 
failure  of  God's  Word,  here  and  there  at  least,  among  the 
most  refined  of  the  civilized,  as  among  the  wildest  of  the 
savage, — among  the  Chinese,  for  instance,  as  among  the 
Hottentots, — to  strike  the  chord  of  sympathy  by  wliich, 
as  we  must  believe,  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  are  actu- 
ally bound  together.  But  few  studies  can  be  more  in- 
teresting, few  arguments  for  our  religion  have  generally 
been  found  more  attractive,  than  those  which  seek  to 
trace  the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  minds  just 
awakened  to  its  teacliing  ;  the  preparation  for  its  recep- 
tion wdiich  it  finds  already  in  them,  and  the  vivifying 
energy  with  which  it  inspires  and  fructifies  them. 


EECEPTION   OF   THE   GOSPEL.  15 

Tlie  triumph,  indeed,  of  Christianity  over  the  prej- 
udices of  the  philosophers  was,  I  think,  more  rapid, 
more  striking,  than  has  generally  been  supposed.  Wo 
have  allowed  too  much  force  to  the  •  statement  of  St. 
Jerome,  rhetorical  and  artful  as  his  statements  too  often 
are,  of  the  smallness  of  the  number  of  the  wise  and 
learned  among  the  leaders  and  teachers  of  the  Church 
of  Christ.  Traces  are  not  wanting  of  the  reception  of 
the  Gospel  by  a  multitude  of  the  educated  classes  even 
in  the  first  and  second  centuries.  But  we  must  remem- 
ber that,  whatever  their  number,  such  converts  did  not 
generally  make  themselves  prominent,  either  in  doing 
or  in  suffering.  It  is  not  among  them,  generally,  that  we 
find  the  leaders  and  martyrs  of  the  early  Church.  It  is 
not  among  such  that  we  find  the  leaders  and  the  martyrs 
of  any  Church.  In  periods  of  spiritual  revolution,  when 
new  religious  ideas  are  painfully  but  hopefully  strug- 
gling  against  old  traditions,  fortified  by  power  and  prej- 
udice, the  men  who  dare  most  are  not  generally  those 
who  think  and  reflect  most.  Action  springs  from  feel- 
ing rather  than  from  reflection.  Beholding  with  awe  and 
wonder  the  grandeur  and  solidity  of  the  Pagan  religion 
and  of  the  Pagan  polity,  of  the  Pontiff  and  of  the  Empe- 
ror, under  a  E'ero  or  a  Trajan,  such  men  might  say  to 
themselves,  *  This  work  we  have  taken  in  hand  is  God's 
work,  not  man's  work  ;  man  can  do  little  or  nothing  in 
it :  God  can  do  all,  and  doubtless  will  do  all !  How  can 
the  Christian  meet  the  philosopher?  What  common 
ground  of  argument  can  they  discover  ?     How  shall  faith 


16  LECTURE   I. 

encounter  reason?  What  fellowship  hath  light  with 
darkness  ?  How  shall  we  meet  the  man  of  the  world, 
the  politician,  the  voluptuary  ?  What  arguments  can 
arrest  the  light  and  thoughtless  votaries  of  a  world  of 
sense :  the  enthusiasts  of  these  brilliant  idolatries,  who 
have  found  in  the  hvmns,  the  pomps,  the  show^s  of  all-em- 
bracing Heathenism  all  that  their  heart,  all  that  their 
conscience  requires  ? ' 

'  Let  us  leave,'  so  they  would  say,  '  the  issue  to  God, 
let  us  turn  ourselves  quietly  and  privately  to  Him,  and 
bury  ourselves  in  Christ  from  the  world,  that  we  may 
rise  again  with  Christ.  Let  Him  show  Himself  if  He 
will.  Let  Him  assert  Himself,  and  avenge  Himself  in 
His  own  way,  in  His  own  time.  Let  God  look  to  His 
own  honour ;  as  the  Heathen  himself  has  said,  "  God's 
honour  is  his  own  great  concern."  ' 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  even  in  the  pure  and 
ardent  era  of  early  Christianity  there  was  much  of  this 
spirit  of  quietism  and  apathy  among  the  converts  from 
the  patrician  classes  of  Eome.  It  was  not  of  such  stuff,  • 
indeed,  that  the  martyrs  and  confessors,  and  bold  de- 
claimers  of  the  persecuted  Church  were  made.  These 
were  generally  less  polished,  less  fastidious,  less  selfish, 
if  you  will.  They  did  the  real  work  of  their  Master ; 
and  they  have  left  the  impress  of  their  character  on  the 
work  ;  so  much  so  that  we  are  apt  to  suppose  that  they 
constituted  the  whole  of  the  Christian  society,  and  to 
overlook  the  fund  of  intelligent  but  more  passive  belief 
which  lay  behind  them.     For  see  how,  as  soon  as  the 


CONVEJRTED    PHILOSOPHEKS.  17 

first  fierceness  of  hatred  and  persecution  relaxed,  our 
records  begin  to  teem  with  names  of  the  learned  and 
the  intellectual.  The  Christian  enjoyed  a  respite  imder 
Hadrian.  The  Emperor  was  himself  learned  and  a 
patron  of  learning ;  he  was  anxious  about  the  learning 
of  all  sects,  and  he  pried  even  into  the  doctrines  of  the 
Christian  Church.  Immediately  the  schools  of  Athens 
were  filled  with  converted  philosophers.  Justin,  him- 
self eventually  a  martyr,  leads  the  van ;  and  is  follow- 
ed by  a  Tatian,  an  Athenagoras,  a  Quadratus,  a  Theo- 
phikis.  These  were  the  first  apologists,  and  some  of 
them  gave  at  last  their  lives  for  the  faith  they  had  de- 
fended ;  but  it  was  an  interval  of  sunshine,  a  moment 
of  ease  and  presumed  security,  that  brought  them  to 
light ;  that  brought  to  light,  in  short,  the  capacity  of 
the  Christian  doctrine  to  attract,  to  interest,  to  sway 
unto  itself  the  foremost  thinkers  of  the  age.  Then 
follows  another  period  of  persecution,  and  the  learning 
of  the  Christians  seems  again  to  shrink  behind  a  cloud. 
Free  thought  is  again  restored  half  a  century  later,  and 
is  marked  at  once  by  an  outburst  of  intellectual  vigour 
among  the  great  assertors  of  the  Faith,  which  may 
favourably  compare  even  with  the  flower  of  Heathen 
intelligence.  In  Clement  of  Alexandria,  in  Tertullian, 
in  Origen,  it  is  clear  that  the  battle  has  been  won.  The 
loftiest  minds  have  ranged  themselves  on  the  side  of 
the  Gospel ;  the  Spirit  leads  them,  and  victory  follows 
them.  The  most  comprehensive  acquirements,  the  sub- 
tlest acumen,  the  most  liberal  and  enlightened  s}Tn- 
2 


18  LECTURE   I. 

patliies,  have  become  enlisted  in  tlie  cause  of  the  divine 
Jesns. 

ISTow  it  is  to  be  observed  that  it  was  not  till  the  battle 
had  been  nearly  won — not  till  the  Gospel  had  attained 
a  manifest  vantage  ground,  and  Paganism  was  begin- 
ning to  totter  under  its  long  and  pertinacious  assaults 
— that  the  apologists  of  the  early  Church  resorted 
generally  to  a  direct  attack  on  its  flagrant  absurdities 
and  corruptions.  It  was  a  sign  that  they  felt  them- 
selves secure  of  God's  triumph  when  they  fiercely 
ascril)ed  all  Paganism  to  the  immediate  promptings  of 
the  devil.  But  this  was  not  the  line  of  argument 
adopted  while  the  issue  might  seem  yet  in  the  balance  ; 
nor  was  it  commonly  at  any  time  the  line  adopted  by 
the  converts  from  the  ranks  of  the  Pagan  philosophers. 
Generally,  it  was  the  line  of  men  who  had  been  born 
Christians,  not  of  men  who  had  become  Christians  ;  of 
men  who  had  been  bred  from  infancy  in  hatred  and 
contempt  of  the  forms  of  thought  which  were  passing 
away,  not  of  those  who  with  many  an  effort  and  in 
much  agony  of  spirit  had  cast  off  the  cherished  love  of 
youth  and  manhood,  and  surrendered  their  dearest  prej- 
udices for  the  promise  of  divine  enlightenment.  The 
man  w^ho  felt  his  Pagan  speculations  transfigured  into 
Christian  faith,  essayed  to  exalt,  to  spiritualize,  to 
harmonize  with  Gospel  truth  the  aspirations  of  his 
early  masters.  He  showed  forth  the  divine  character  of 
Christ's  teaching,  as  the  ideal  to  which  human  imagi- 
nations had  been  ever  tending  ;  he  represented  Christ  as 


mVITATION   TO   THE   PAGANS.  19 

the  incarnation  of  an  idea  for  which  man,  through  the 
unconscious  working  of  divine  grace  in  his  heart,  had 
been  ever  yearning  and  grasping.  He  rejoiced  in  tracing 
among  the  utterances  of  the  good  and  wise  throughout 
the  world,  throughout  time,  the  faint  anticipations  of 
redemption  and  glory  by  which  God  had  never  left 
Himself  wholly  without  a  witness  among  the  creatures 
He  loves  and  cherishes. 

It  was,  I  say,  in  the  intervals  of  early  persecution, 
while  the  sword  was  yet  suspended,  while  the  issue  was 
yet  doubtful,  while  it  was  the  first  interest  of  the  believers 
to  make  a  favourable  impression,  that  the  Christian  think- 
ers— such  names  as  I  have  mentioned — rushed  forward 
to  conciliate  opinions,  to  harmonize  truths  and  convic- 
tions. They  did  not  shrink  in  fear  or  hatred  from  the 
Pagans  ;  they  did  not  bury  themselves  sullenly  in  their 
own  reflections,  nor  fall  back  unsociably  on  their  personal 
hopes  and  assurances ;  least  of  all  did  they  now  taunt  and 
defy  the  strong  but  slumbering  adversary.  'No :  they  came 
forward,  with  eager  heart  and  hand  extended,  to  invite 
and  welcome  the  Pagans ;  to  make  them  one  with  them- 
selves in  love,  one  in  hope,  one  even  in  favour  with  a  com- 
mon Father  and  Sanctifier  and  Eedeemer.  They  were 
resolved,  it  would  seem,  to  bring  into  discredit  the  vul- 
gar charge  against  them,  of  fleeing  the  light,  of  hating 
their  fellowmen,  of  living  for  themselves  in  their  inner 
circle  only,  and  surrendering  the  outer  world  compla- 
cently to  divine  wrath  and  inevitable  condemnation. 

To  mark  from  our  own  distant  standing-point  the  agree- 


20  LECTURE   T. 

ment  of  Christian  truth  with  the  wants  and  imaginations 
of  religions  men  among  the  Pagans,  was  the  object  of  my 
former  lectures  in  this  place ;  and  the  same  observation 
was  made  in  ancient  times  by  one  school  at  least  of  the 
early  apologists.  The  influence  to  which  I  pointed  was 
felt  to  be  forcible  then,  as  we  believe  it  to  be  forcible 
now.  But  the  argument  has  a  special  interest  in  the 
mouths  of  men  like  Justin  and  his  colleagues,  who  had 
issued  themselves  from  the  schools  of  Pagan  philosophy, 
and  had  tasted  it  in  its  strength  and  its  weakness,  its 
truth  and  its  errors. 

Justin  the  Martyr,  of  whom  I  would  first  speak  as  the 
representative  of  this  school  of  Christian  Apology,  came 
forth  from  the  old  university  of  Heathen  Athens,  the 
nurse  and  mistress  of  antique  tradition,  tenacious  of  the 
accustomed  forms  of  thought,  still  brooding  over  the  mem- 
ories of  the  past,  retrospective  in  its  views,  conservative 
in  its  feelings,  still  jealously  grasping  the  thread  of  conti- 
nuity which  seemed  to  the  last  to  connect  the  speculations 
of  the  present  with  the  speculations  of  seven  restless  cen- 
turies before  it.     Justin  had  himself  disputed  in  the 
school  of  Plato ;  he  spoke  the  language  of  Plato,  he  wore 
the  dress  of  Plato,  he  was  imbued  with  the  spirit  while  he 
cherished  the  outward  tokens  of  the  old  Pagan  thought  on 
which  so  many  ardent  souls  had  seemed  to  soar  onwards 
and  upwards.     All  these  dreams  have  been  his — ^liis  the 
hope,  the  rapture ;  his  again  the  disappointment,  the 
disenchantment :  but  his  hope  has  been  rekindled,  his 
rapture  revived ;  and  conviction  not  to  be  abandoned,  faith 


JUSTm's   THEOEY    OF   THE   WOED.  21 

never  to  be  asliamed  of,  have  in  liis  case,  ais  of  one  among 
myriads,  succeeded  to  the  despair  which  clouded  tlie  vision 
of  his  predecessors.  Persuaded  of  the  new,  he  cannot  yet 
relinquish  the  old.  Though  a  disciple  of  John,  he  re- 
members Plato  ;  though  a  worshipper  of  Christ,  he  rever- 
ences Socrates-;  though  a  student  of  the  Gospel,  he  feels 
the  teachings  of  JSTature,  and  hears  the  voice  of  the  liuraan 
conscience,  and  traces  from  generation  to  generation  the 
trail  of  divine  illumination.  He  regards  Christianity  as 
the  last  crowning  development  of  holy  Philosophy,  the 
severest  and  most  perfect  image  of  God's  transcendent 
nature,  the  abiding  witness  to  His  eternal  Truth. 

The  idea  which  was  present  to  the  mind  of  the  Athe- 
nian sages,  which  was  rendered  concrete  under  the  appel- 
lation of  the  Word,  has  become  a  personal  incarnation 
in  the  rapt  vision  of  the  Apostle  John,  and  is  accepted 
as  the  divine  Son  of  God  by  Justin,  his  disciple.  The 
"Word,  Justin  believes,  has  been  made  Plesh,  and  dwelt 
as  a  divine  person  among  us.  ]^ot  only  does  he  be- 
lieve :  he  admires,  he  loves  the  Word,  he  falls  down  be- 
fore Him  and  worships  Him.  He  worships  '  the  Word 
of  God,  eternal  and  ineffable,  who  was  made  man  that 
He  might  heal  us  by  partaking  of  our  sufferings.'  His 
belief  is  direct  and  positive.  He  holds  it  distinct  from 
the  arbitrary  fancies  of  the  Gnostics,  whose  theory  of 
^ons  and  Emanations  was  a  mere  nominal  recognition 
of  shadowy  and  factitious  Existences.  He  maintains  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  Son  of  God,  who  dwells  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Father. 


22  LECTUEE   I. 

This  Word,  whicli  is  thus  no  mere  Idea,  but  a  living 
Being,  is  not  the  less  the  AVisdom  and  Ecason  of  God, 
the  Eeason  living  and  acting.  It  lighteth  every  man 
that  Cometh  into  the  world  :  all  creatures  endowed  with 
intelligence  and  will  partake  of  its  sovereign  nature. 
'  The  seed  of  the  Word,'  he  declares,  '  is  sown  in  every 
reasonable  creature.'  But  the  Word  is  not  Intelligence 
only.  It  is  the  source  of  all  Good  as  well  as  of  all 
Knowledge.  It  is  the  principle  of  Life,  moral  as  well 
as  intellectual :  it  is  the  substance  of  the  superior  Life 
which  exists  in  all  free  and  responsible  beings.  And 
thus  does  Justin,  Christian  as  he  is,  attach  himself  to 
all  the  great  and  good  men  of  antiquity.  He  remarks 
the  influence  of  the  Word  on  the  wisest  and  bravest  spir- 
its of  Greece  and  Kome,  as  well  as  of  Israel  and  Judah. 
He  detects  God's  reflection  in  the  teaching  of  the  Porch,  as 
well  as  in  the  Shechinah  of  the  Temple.  All,  in  his  view, 
who  have  lived  conformably  to  the  Word  are  Christians  in 
nature  though  not  in  name.  Such  have  been  Socrates 
and  Heraclitus  among  the  Pagans — Socrates  has  himself 
hiown  Christ :  such  have  been  Abraham  and  Elias  and 
Ananias  among  the  Jews ;  such  liave  been  Paul  and 
John  ;  such  are  now  the  saints  and  confessors  of  the  Gos- 
pel in  this  latter  generation.  Those  who  have  opposed 
the  Eeason  and  the  Word — alas  !  the  bulk  of  mankind 
— were  Anti-christs,  long  before  the  advent  and  ministry 
of  Christ  himself;  the  murderers  of  the  men  of  good-will 
towards  Him,  even  the  best  and  wisest  of  the  Heathens, 
who  lived  according  to  His  truth.     Martyrs  there  have 


COMMON   INHERITANCE   OF   GOSPEL   TEUTH.  23 

been  before  Stephen  :  Saints  there  have  been  before  the 
Baptist.  To  the  Pagans  Justin  coiikl  apply  the  language 
with  which  Christ  had  scathed  the  iniquity  of  the 
Pharisees  :  '  Ye  who  build  the  sepulchres  of  the  Proph- 
ets, ye  have  slain  them  yourselves.'  For  the  Pagans  too, 
in  their  day,  had  slain  or  persecuted  the  teachers  whom 
they  afterwards  exalted  and  canonized. 

But  our  Christian  jjhilosopher  is  not  content  to  dwell 
on  these  general  analogies.  His  creed  is  no  mere  rhe- 
torical flourish.  He  sets  himself  earnestly  to  teach  us 
wherein  these  preludes  to  Christianity  consisted,  and  to 
disentangle  them  from  the  errors  and  superstitions  which 
had  overlaid  them.  Belief  in  Immortality,  belief  in  a 
Resurrection,  expectation  of  a  Judgment  to  come,  of 
punishment  and  rewards — such,  he  says,  with  all  the 
fables  and  follies  that  have  disgraced  or  encumbered 
them,  are  the  Christian  truths  to  which  the  eyes  of  the 
best  and  wisest  of  the  Heathens  had  been  already  opened 
by  the  Spirit  of  Grace.  Even  the  vulgar  religion  of  the 
multitude  bears  a  precious  testimony  in  his  eyes  to  the 
eternal  verities  first  revealed  by  God  to  the  patriarchs. 
God  has  thus  never  left  Himself  without  witness  in  the 
hearts  of  His  creatures.  He  has  never  abandoned  the 
fallen  world  which  He  once  for  all  created  for  His  Glory. 

There  is  assuredly  a  breadth  and  liberality  of  feeling 
in  this  view  of  the  common  inheritance  of  Gospel  Truth 
which  must  ever  be  attractive  and  interesting.  It  seems 
to  smooth  some  of  the  harshest  difficulties  of  religion  ;  to 
soothe  some  of  the  sharpest  pangs  of  humanity.     But  it 


'2^  LECTUKE    I. 

will  not,  after  all,  admit  of  being  pushed  to  extremity ; 
and  its  intrinsic  weakness  becomes  apparent  even  in  the 
feebleness  and  indecision  of  the  teacher  himself,  when  he 
proceeds  to  follow  it  into  particular  details.  He  has 
been  led  to  the  brink  of  an  argument  in  defence  of  the 
grossest  monstrosities  of  Heathen  mythology.  He  starts 
back  dismayed  at  his  own  indiscretion.  The  great 
apostle  might  point  with  daring  finger  to  the  altar  of  the 
Unknown  God  at  Athens,  and  claim  it  as  an  anticipation 
of  a  divine. revelation  ;  but  it  becomes  none  of  his  humble 
followers  to  make  so  bold  an  application.  God  alone 
know^s  who  are  His,  and  what  human  ideas  are  the 
reflection  of  divine  Truths.  He  can  inspire  His  appoint- 
ed preachers  to  discover  and  bring  them  to  light ;  but 
Justin,  at  least,  is  too  modest  to  assume  the  mantle  of 
the  inspired.  He  leaves  it  to  a  later  school  and  a  more 
confident  generation  to  proclaim  the  universality  of  the 
Gospel. 

Such  a  school,  and  such  a  generation,  w^ere  indeed  to 
make  their  appearance ;  to  prosecute  these  same  views 
watli  a  difference  ;  in  some  respects  to  give  them  a  legiti- 
mate development,  in  others  to  expand  them  into  ex- 
travagance and  folly.  We  pass  on  to  the  next  great 
name  among  the  early  defenders  of  Christianity,  the 
most  learned,  the  most  ingenious  perhaps  of  all,  to 
Clement  of  Alexandria. 

The  city  wherein  this  illustrious  doctor  first  learned 
and  afterwards  abjured  the  philosophies  of  Paganism, 
stood  in  marked  contrast  with  Athens  as  a  place  of 


ANOTHER   STAGE   IN   CHRISTIAN   PROGRESS.  25 

Spiritual  training.  Alexandria  also  was  a  vast  Pagan 
university ;  but  it  was  a  school  of  progress  and  inquiry 
rather  than  of  retrospection  and  tradition.  It  embraced 
with  ardour  new  opinions  ;  it  welcomed  foreign  specula- 
tions. It  opened  its  arms  to  the  teachers  of  Judaism, 
and  again  to  the  teachers  of  Gnosticism.  It  could  admire 
the  fanatic  monotheism  of  Arabia,  and  look  beyond  it 
to  the  labyrinthine  intricacies  of  Hindoo  theology.  In 
the  vast  libraries  which  it  collected;  and  to  which  it 
invited  the  students  of  every  nation,  it  combined  and 
assimilated  all  science,  all  theory,  and  fused  together  the 
belief  of  every  age  and  country,  to  form,  perchance,  the 
basis  of  some  new  creed,  yet  undeveloped,  for  all  ages 
and  for  all  countries.  The  doctors  of  Alexandria,  when 
converted  to  Christianity,  were  not  constrained  by  early 
love  and  sympathy  to  look  fondly  back  to  the  teaching 
of  the  Grecian  schools  as  the  foundation,  not  to  be 
relinquished,  of  all  spiritual  Truth — to  seek,  above  all 
things,  to  harmonize  them  with  the  new  and  higher 
teaching  to  which  they  had  been  admitted.  Still  less 
had  they  any  lingering  loyalty  to  the  vanities  of  Pagan 
mythology,  or  the  ])retensions  of  the  Pagan  mysteries 
to  explain  and  justify  them.  The  age  of  Clement,  one 
generation  later  than  that  of  Justin,  was  marked  indeed, 
in  this  respect,  by  special  characteristics.  Christianity 
had  advanced  a  stage  in  its  progress.  It  had  assumed 
the  offensive  against  Paganism,  and  had  forced  the 
Pagans  to  scan  earnestly  and  impatiently  the  grounds 
of  their  old  beliefs.     Their  religion  had   been  rudely 


:5b  LECTUEE   I. 

shaken ;  its  absurdities  liacl  been  laid  bare.  Its  up- 
holders had  been  compelled  to  reconsider  their  position, 
and  to  seek  on  all  hands  the  means  of  maintaining  it. 
Paganism,  awakened  to  the  consciousness  of  its  internal 
weakness,  was  affecting  boldness  to  smother  its  rising 
doubts  and  apprehensions.  The  temples  were  renovated, 
the  idols  were  freshly  decked,  the  sacrifices  were  re- 
doubled ;  shrines,  oracles,  and  prodigies  were  fanati- 
cally sought  after.  The  flame  was  flickering  in  its 
socket,  and  burning  with  fitful  vehemence  in  these  latter 
moments  of  its  existence.  It  is  to  this  reaction  of  Pagan- 
ism, that  Clement  directly  addresses  himself.  A  great 
part  of  his  Apologies  is  framed  for  the  bold  exposure  of 
the  hollowness  of  the  old  beliefs,  and  shows  how  strong 
the  Christians  now  were  in  their  position  ;  that  they 
could  become  assailants  in  their  turn  ;  that  in  the  great 
cosmopolitan  capital  at  least  they  could  speak  and  be 
listened  to,  and  that  Truth,  unfettered,  was  marching  on 
straight  to  triumph. 

But  it  was  perhaps  this  very  feeling  of  security,  this 
assui'ance  of  ultimate  success,  that  led  a  thoughtful 
Christian  like  the  father  before  us  to  look  with  con- 
sideration and  indulgence  on  the  errors  of  human  nature. 
Clement  hates  and  mocks  at  Paganism ;  but  he  loves 
and  pities  the  Pagans.  lie  seeks  for  no  communion,  he 
admits  of  no  communion,  between  the  Gospel  and  the 
old  mythology;  but  he  recognizes  the  votaries  of 
Olympus  as  fellows  with  the  worshippers  of  Olivet.  He 
bows  with  no  excessive  reverence  before  the  teachers  of 


CLEMENT   APPEALS   TO   THE   COMMON   BELIEF.  27 

the  Porcli  or  tlie  Academy ;  yet  he  hails  them  as  brothers 
in  love  and  intelligence  with  the  disciples  who  issued  to 
convert  the  world  from  an  upper  chamber  of  the  Temple. 
Sprung  himself  from  no  special  school  of  thought  and 
inquiry,  he  is  sworn  to  the  teaching  of  no  individual 
master ;  but  he  regards  every  effort  of  the  human  soul 
in  search  of  truth  as  informed  with  grace  from  above,  as 
prompted  by  that  Divine  Author  to  whom  it  ultimately 
leads.  He  is  genial  and  universal  in  his  sympathies 
with  his  fellowmen.  Every  art,  he  says,  springs  from 
God ;  every  exercise  of  intelligence  raises  men  towards 
God.  That  true  idea  of  divinity  wliich  has  been  at 
length  revealed  by  direct  communication  from  above, 
the  imagination  of  poets  and  artists  no  less  than  of  x^hi- 
losophers,  has  ever  been  striving  to  realize.  Christ  has 
been  the  Desired  of  all  nations,  even  when  they  knevv^ 
not  their  own  desire.  To  all  men  purified  and  prepared 
by  this  desire,  the  Word  now  reveals  Himself  by  grace, 
and  this  revelation  is  finally  confirmed  by  the  witness 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  Scriptures.  The  proof  of 
God's  truth,  he  says,  must  be  a  moral  one  :  the  witness 
of  miracles  aud  of  prophecy  is  external  and  subsidiary 
only. 

If  Justin  sought,  then,  to  make  terms  with  the  philoso- 
phers as  his  own  fellow-labourers  and  colleagues,  by  show- 
ing them  that  they  had  been  themselves  preaching  the 
Word  un^vittingly,  Clement,  as  one  of  the  multitude,  as 
himself  an  outsider,  consoles  and  cheers  the  multitude, 
by  proving  that,  with  all  their  errors  and  shortcomings, 


28  LECTURE   I. 

Gocl  has  never  quite  foi-sakeii  tliera,  but  lias  been  ever 
leading  them  all  onwards  as  an  indulgent  father,  has  been 
ever  training  them,  bj  every  thought  and  word  and 
action  and  aspiration  of  their  uninformed  intelligence, 
to  love  Him  with  the  love  which  casteth  out  shame  and 
fear  and  self-reproach.  They  too  have  all  been  doing 
the  work  w^hich  was  given  them  to  do,  they  too  have  been 
faithful  over  a  little :  and  now  He  comes  with  a  joyful 
message  to  His  faithful  ones,  'Enter  ye  into  the  joy 
of  your  Lord. ' 

Such,  I  believe,  is  a  fair  representation  of  the  general 
tone  of  our  earliest  apologetics.  Their  common  object 
was  to  connect  the  Christian  Revelation  with  the  general 
development  of  man's  moral  and  spiritual  nature.  The 
school  of  Justin  traced  this  development  mainly  in  the 
formal  teaching  of  the  sects ;  the  school  of  Clement  rec- 
ognized it  further  in  the  universal  tendencies  of  human 
nature.  Both  defended  and  explained  the  Gospel  on  the 
ground  of  its  agreement  with  God's  eternal  teachings,  as 
though  in  its  descent  from  heaven  no  new  or  strange  thing 
had  happened  unto  us,  but  such  only  as  was  the  proper 
end  and  issue  of  the  spiritual  education  of  His  creatures. 
It  is  evident  that  the  defence  was  commonly  admitted, 
the  explanation  widely  appreciated.  The  answer  of  the 
early  apologists  unto  them  that  examined  them  was  this 
— the  same  which  has  been  repeated  from  age  to  age,  the 
same  which  I  have  before  advanced  in  this  place,  and 
which  I  began  this  discourse  by  asserting — that  the  truth 
of  God's  Holy  Word  may  be  known  from  its  agreement 


DEFECT   OF   THE    EAELY   APOLOGISTS.  29 

with  the  conscience,  its  answer  to  the  questionings  of  man. 
A  sober  and  earnest  belief  in  the  depth  and  breadth  of 
the  foundations  of  our  Lord's  revelation  must  lead  us  at 
all  times  to  see  in  it  the  completion  and  crown  of  human 
speculation  ;  not  the  sworn  antagonist  of  philosophy  and 
science,  but  their  ally  and  friend,  their  leader  and  their 
guide. 

But  we  must  not  stop  here ;  and  the  defect  of  these 
early  apologists  must  have  been  already  apparent  to  you, 
that  they  were  too  much  inchned  to  stop  here.  In  show- 
ing how  much  Christianity  agreed  with  human  thought, 
they  were  in  danger  of  overlooking  the  points  in  which 
it  lay  beside  it  and  above  it.  Regarding  it  as  the  com- 
panion, or  at  least  the  complement  of  philosophy,  they 
forgot  or  disregarded  the  fact  that  it  is  a  further  revela- 
tion of  things  beyond  philosophy.  ]^ot  that  Justin,  still 
less  that  Clement,  fail  to  signalize  the  divine  character  of 
its  Founder,  or  neglect  the  fundamental  incidents  of  His 
history,  or  suppress  the  miraculous  tokens  by  which  His 
ministry  was  accompanied.  No  Christian  teacher  of  the 
early  Church  dared  to  represent  Jesus,  as  some  moderns 
represent  him,  as  a  mere  man^  a  wiser  Socrates,  a  holier 
Plato,  a  more  consistent  Seneca.  It  was  from  the  defect 
of  their  position,  as  individual  inquirers,  not  yet  trained 
to  accept  the  concurrent  tradition  of  the  Church,  of  the 
many  teaching  as  one,  that  they  scanned  the  Christian 
dogma  thus  partially  and  obliquely.  The  time  was  not 
yet  ripe  for  its  full  and  consistent  exposition.  The  great 
doctrines  of  the  Divine  ISTature,  of  Salvation,  and  of 


30  LECTUTE   I. 

Grace,  are  of  no  private  interpretation.  The  discrimina- 
tion of  the  Persons  of  the  Godhead  was  as  yet  unsteady 
and  fluctuating.  Christ  was  commonly  regarded  as 
man's  champion  against  the  Devil,  as  his  raiser  from  the 
Fall,  rather  than  his  Redeemer  from  Sin,  and  his  Recon- 
ciler with  his  Judge  ;  grace  was  extenuated  too  much  as  a 
universal  inheritance,  instead  of  being  proclaimed  as  the 
special  gift  of  the  Spirit  unto  them  that  believe.  Large 
and  generous  was  the  teaching  of  the  schools  before  us  ; 
it  may  easily  dazzle  us  with  its  brilliancy,  it  may  kindle 
in  us  a  glow  of  sympathy  and  admiration.  But  we  must 
examine  it  with  caution  ;  we  must  accept  it  with  some 
qualification.  It  has  in  it  much  truth,  even  of  the 
highest  truth ;  but  it  is  not  all  true,  nor  is  it  all 
the  truth.  Its  obliquities  and  defects  became  from 
day  to  day  apparent.  As  it  sprang  directly  from 
the  interpretation  of  the  Grecian  schools,  so  it  leaned 
too  favourably  to  mere  Grecian  modes  of  speculation ; 
it  allied  itself  too  closely  with  the  ideas  of  classical 
philoso]3hy.  But  God  had  other  races  of  men,  other 
habits  of  mind  and  spiritual  training,  to  bring  into  the 
confession  of  faith  in  Him  and  in  His  Gospel ;  and  He 
required  the  teaching  of  his  word  to  be  placed  upon  a 
broader  foundation,  to  be  developed  from  a  deeper 
source ;  that  Christ  might  become  the  Desire  of  an- 
other people,  the  Light  and  Life  of  a  new  world  of 
humanity. 


LECTUEE   II. 

THE   PRACTICAL  VIEW   OF   CHRIST'S   REVELATION:    TERTUL- 
LIAN  AND  ORIGEN. 

1    COEINTH.    IX.    3. 

Mine  ansicer  to  them  that  do  examine  me  is  this. 

In  mj  first  lecture  I  showed  how  the  truths  of  Chris- 
tian Revelation  proved  themselves  attractive  to  the  high- 
est order  of  intelligence  among  the  Heathens ;  how  some 
of  the  most  devout  and  eloquent  defenders  of  the  Gospel 
arose  in  the  Pagan  schools  of  Athens  and  Alexandria, 
and  mounted  from  the  chairs  of  philosophers  to  the  pul- 
pit of  Christian  preachers.  It  was  natural  that  such  con- 
verts, men  of  mature  minds  and  long-formed  habits  of 
thought,  while  submitting  the  wisdom  thej  had  learned 
from  their  masters  to  the  higher  wisdom  of  Christ, 
should  feel  unwilling — should  indeed  be  morally  unable 
— to  renounce  all  the  spiritnal  truths  on  which  their 
souls  had  so  long  been  nourished. 

Does  any  one  of  us  in  mid-life  find  himself  constrain- 
ed to  change  his  earlier  views  on  moral,  or  religious,  or 
political  questions  ?     His  first  care  is,  I  suppose,  always 


32  LECTURE  n. 

to  justify  Ills  change  to  liimself  by  seeking  to  deduce  it 
legitimately  from  his  original  principles.  He  rejects  one 
development  as  a  wrong  one  ;  he  accepts  another  as  the 
right ;  but  the  principle  he  still  maintains  was  right 
from  the  first.  And  so  the  converted  philosophers  were 
intent,  as  we  have  seen,  on  showing  that  the  new  victo- 
rious faith  was  itself  based  upon  the  same  eternal 
verities  as  those  on  which  their  own  confused  reasonings 
had  been  founded ;  and  sprang  from  the  same  Divine 
Author,  the  guide  whose  footsteps  they  had  ever  traced, 
however  inconsistently  and  feebly.  Each  reverted  to 
his  first  foundations,  having  cleared  away  the  Pagan 
superstructure,  and  erected  upon  them  the  Christian 
edifice  which  seemed  to  his  own  conscience  to  accord 
with  them. 

Among  Christian  thinkers  and  teachers,  Justin  and 
Clement,  the  Athenian  and  the  Alexandrian,  will 
always  have  their  followers  and  successors.  The  worth 
of  the  human  understanding,  the  claims  of  human 
speculation,  will  always  attach  to  themselves  patrons. 
We  shall  always  hear  among  us  the  praises  of  human 
excellence,  familiar  to  us  in  the  language  of  the  greatest 
master  of  secular  eloquence  :  '  What  a  piece  of  work  is 
man !  How  noble  in  reason,  how  infinite  in  faculties  ! 
In  form  and  moving  how  express  and  admirable!  in 
action  how  like  an  angel !  in  apprehension  how  like  a 
God ! '  We  shall  press  to  our  hearts  with  pride  and  self- 
complacency  the  liberal  admission  of  an  inspired  preacher, 
that  Hhat  which  may  be  known  of  God  is  manifest '  even 


THE   PRECEDING   THEOEIES   PAETIALLY   TRUE.  33 

in  tlie  Heathen  :  '  for  the  invisible  things  of  Him  from 
the  creation  of  the  world  are  clearly  seen,  being  under- 
stood by  the  things  that  are  made  : '  and  that  men,  even 
in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  heathenism  and  idolatry, 
still  '  knew  God,'  even  when  they  '  glorified  Him  not  as 
God.'  Accordingly  there  will  be  a  constant  effort  to 
show  that  the  discoveries  of  the  hnman  mind  in  the 
domain  of  the  moral  and  the  spiritual  have  been  sound 
and  substantial ;  and  that  the  highest  proof  of  the 
divinity  of  Christ's  final  Revelation  is  the  sanction  it 
gives,  the  confirmation  it  extends,  to  the  anticipations 
of  the  human  understanding.  One  school  of  Apologists 
will  insist  upon  the  essential  harmony  between  the 
Gospel  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  the  teachings  of  a  Plato  ; 
another  will  argue  that  from  age  to  age  the  imagination 
of  man  was  brooding  on  religious  anticipations,  faintly 
sketching  its  dim  glimpses  of  the  future,  prophesying  of 
the  glory  that  was  to  be  revealed  at  the  end. 

This  argument,  shadowy  and  imperfect  though  it  be, 
is  doubtless  fraught  with  the  spirit  of  truth,  and  the 
souls  which  pleaded  with  it  have  not  sought  its  succour 
in  vain.  This  is  one  of  the  many  answers  we  may  give 
to  them  that  examine  us  touching  the  grounds  of  our 
faith  in  Christ.  He  has  hallowed  human  philosophy. 
He  has  responded  to  human  aspirations  and  auguries. 
Man  has  been  prepared  through  long  ages  for  His  advent, 
and  for  the  Revelation  of  the  Faith  in  Him.  Justin  and 
Clement  may  still  stand  in  the  breach  for  us :  not  clothed 
in  the  whole  armour  of  God,  but  at  least  witli  utterance 
3 


34  LECTURE   II. 

given  imto  tliem  to  open  their  moutli  boldly,  to  make 
known  the  mystery  of  the  Gospel. 

But  we  admit  the  obvious  dangers  of  this  attractive 
argument :  we  know  how  apt  men  are  to  build  too  much 
upon  it,  to  yield  too  indolently  to  it,  to  look  too  exclu- 
sively towards  it.  We  know  that  the  Heathen  msij  use 
it  for  his  own  purposes,  to  fortify  his  own  pride  and  con- 
firm him  in  his  self-sufficiency ;  and  he  may  stop  short 
abruptly  in  the  career  along  which  we  would  lead  him, 
and  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  conclusions  to  which  we 
would  compel  him.  "We  know  further,  that  it  may 
tempt  the  Christian  also,  the  imperfect  or  nominal 
believer,  to  stop  short  of  the  full  training  of  the  truth,  to 
rest  satisfied  in  a  half-conversion,  and  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
superior  claims  of  Christ  over  the  teachers  of  human 
wisdom,  to  the  special  doctrines  He  has  revealed,  the 
special  objects  for  which  He  has  built  His  Church,  for 
which  He  has  made  it  so  strong  and  enduring  that  the 
^  gates  of  Hell ' — all  the  power  of  evil  and  of  falsehood 
— shall  not  ultimately  prevail  against  it. 

And  accordingly  from  the  first  the  Christian  Church 
was  put  on  its  guard  against  it.  The  mass  of  the  believ- 
ers had  no  sympathy  with  the  refinements  of  the  Schools : 
doctors  sprang  up  among  them,  jealous  of  any  appeal  to 
the  principles  of  antiquity,  determined  to  claim  for  the 
Gospel  its  own  witness  to  itself,  and  to  dissever  it 
entirely  from  the  past.  Of  such  a  school  of  apology,  the 
impetuous  Tertullian  is  the  fittest  representative,  and 
following  immediately  upon   Justin   and  Clement,  he 


THE   AKGUMENT   OF   TERTULLIAN.  35 

thus  distinctly  impe,aclies  and  repudiates  tlieir  teacli- 
ino; : —    " 

'  Some  of  our  brethren,'  he  says,  '  who  have  persisted 
in  the  cultivation  of  letters,  and  have  preserved  faith- 
fully in  their  recollection  their  old  Pagan  learning,  have 
composed  treatises  expressly  to  convince  us  that  there 
is  nothing  new,  nothing  extraordinary,  in  our  religion ; 
that  the  Gospel  is  founded,  after  all,  on  the  common 
consent  of  humanity,  and  has  only  improved,  exalted, 
and  ratified  the  discoveries  of  antiquity.  But  what  have 
these  discoveries  done  for  Christ  ?  What  hearts  have 
they  softened?  "What  passions  have  they  controlled? 
To  such  teaching  men  may  listen  while  it  appeals  to  the 
intellect  only  :  as  soon  as  it  lays  claim  to  the  heart  they 
fly  back  to  their  idols  again.  The  labour,  then,  is  lost. 
A  man  may  spend  his  life  in  ransacking  the  stores  of 
human  wisdom,  and  may  fail  altogether  of  the  true  end 
of  preaching,  the  bringing  souls  to  Christ.'  The  argu- 
ment then  is  delusive  ;  whether  sound  or  not,  it  is  of  no 
practical  value  : — such  seems  to  be.  the  writer's  reasoning. 
Let  us  try,  he  would  say,  some  other  method  more  effectual. 

'  If  we  cannot  persuade  men  by  Heathen  testimony, 
can  we  hope  to  do  so  by  our  own  Christian  Scriptures  ? 
True  though  they  be,  w^ill  they  practically  serve  our 
turn?  Will  the  Pagan  listen  to  them?  He  is  too 
proud,  too  vain  of  his  own  learning,  too  confident  in  his 
own  masters.  The  Scriptures !  none  come  to  the  Scrip- 
tures but  Christians.  You  cannot  attack  the  Pagan  in 
his  strongholds  by  the  words  of  Christ.      Scripture  is 


36  LECTUEE  n. 

the  instrument  of  Christians  in  controversy  among  them- 
selves :  with  Scriptm-e  we  train  the  yomig  believer,  we 
reclaim  the  disobedient,  we  chastise  the  reprobate,  we 
confute  the  erring ;  we  deal  in  many  ways  with  those 
who  acknowledge  their  authority,  even  if  they  dispute 
tlieir  meaning  or  application.  But  with  the  Pagan, 
who  admits  not  their  divine  character,  you  must  go  to 
work  in  none  of  these  ways.  You  must  appeal,  then,  to 
the  Conscience : — the  spontaneous  witness  of  the  human 
soul  proclaims  the  truth  of  Christ.'  It  is  to  the  heart, 
to  the  Conscience,  that  TertuUian  appeals  for  an  answer 
to  those  who  examine  him  concerning  the  grounds  of 
Lis  faith.  The  Conscience,  he  declares,  is  naturally 
Christian, 

Stand  forth  then,  O  soul,  O  Conscience  of  man, — 
whether  we  should  acknowledge  you  to  be  eternal  and 
divine,  and  therefore  the  more  incapable  of  deceiving 
and  betraying  us ; — or  whether,  as  some  indeed  main- 
tain, you  have  received  no  promise  of  immortality,  and 
may  therefore  speak  more  indej^endently,  more  fear- 
lessly : — whether  you  descend  from  heaven ;  whether 
you  issue  from  the  earth ;  whether  formed  of  members 
or  of  atoms ;  whether  born  with  tlie  body,  or  pre- 
existent  to  it : — you  are  still  equally  the  seat  of  reason, 
of  intelligence,  and  of  feeling.  I  invoke  you,  not  as  you 
are  polished  and  matured  in  schools  and  libraries,  redo- 
lent of  ancient  wisdom,  of  the  Academy  and  of  the 
Porch.  I  call  u]Jon  you  rather,  simple,  rude,  ignorant, 
untutored,  such  as  you  are  among  the  children  of  nature 


APPEAL   TO   THE   CONSCIENCE.  37 

Dierely, — in  the  street,  in  the  field,  in  the  workshop. 
You  are  not  Christian,  I  know ; — for  no  man  is  l)ar7i  a 
Christian — we  must  be  7nade  Christians.  ^  ^Nevertheless 
we  Christians  invoke  your  testimony,  although  you  be 
not  yet  of  our  sect.  You  shall  witness  for  us,  and 
against  your  own  fellows.  You  shall  shame  them ! 
You  shall  convert  them  ! ' 

But  what  are  the  Christian  truths  precisely  to  which 
Tertullian  invokes  the  testimony  of  the  universal  con- 
science ?  Tlie  object,  be  it  remembered,  of  the  apolo- 
gist of  that  day  was  not  altogether  the  same  as  ours 
might  be.  It  was  first  and  chiefly  to  recall  the  heathen 
from  their  false  and  mean  ideas  of  the  Godhead  ;  from 
polytheism  ;  from  idolatry.  The  overthrow  of  the  idols 
was  to  be  the  foundation  of  Christian  teaching ;  the 
establishment  of  a  pure  and  reasonable  Theism ;  the 
acknowledgment  of  a  God  of  holiness  and  truth,  of  justice 
and  mercy ;  a  Punisher  and  a  Rewarder.  The  great 
doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  in  the  eyes  of  that  age,  were  as- 
suredly the  Resurrection  and  a  future  Life.  It  is  to  these 
cardinal  truths,  then,  that  the  testimony  of  the  soul  is 
produced.  The  Heathen  is  shown  that  he  is  naturally 
not  worse  but  better  than  his  creed  ;  that  his  notion  of 
God,  attested  by  a  thousand  involuntary  admissions,  is 
purer ;  that  his  hope  of  the  future,  gleaming  in  a  thou- 
sand natural  acts  and  utterances,  is  more  consolatory ; 
that  his  confidence  in  a  superior  Providence  is  more  in- 
timate and  effectual.  He  is  led  to  own  that  he  is  not 
really  a  believer  in  the  frivolous  fancies  of  men,  to  which 


38  LECTURE   IT. 

lie  lias  been  wont  outwardly  to  conform  liimself,  but  that 
against  many  of  the  gross  and  hateful  inventions  of  the 
flesh  his  reason,  give  it  but  room  and  play,  will  naturally 
revolt. 

'  These  testimonies,'  exclaims  the  apologist,  '  are  all 
the  more  true,  because  they  are  simple ;  all  the  more 
simple,  because  they  are  popular;  the  more  popular 
inasmuch  as  they  are  universal ;  the  more  universal,  as 
being  natural ;  the  more  natural,  as  being  divine.' 
^  J^atural  they  are,  and  original  in  the  soul.  Say  not 
that  they  have  been  derived  froin  book-learning.  The 
soul  is  older  than  any  book :  thought  is  older  than 
eloquence ;  man  was  before  the  philosopher  and  the 
prophet.' 

If  we  w^ere  now,  in  our  day,  to  follow  out  the  line  of 
argument  from  the  testimony  of  the  soul,  w^e  should 
doubtless  extend  it  far  beyond  its  witness  to  the  Unity, 
the  Providence,  the  first  attributes  of  God,  and  the  prom- 
ise of  a  future  Resurrection.  We  should  speak,  and, 
even  more  strongly,  of  its  conviction  that  sin  is  a  reality, 
that  forgiveness  is  necessary,  that  human  merits  are  a  de- 
lusion, that  man  requires  a  Mediator  and  a  Redeemer. 
We  should  appeal  to  Conscience  for  its  testimony  against 
ourselves,  against  our  acts,  our  thoughts,  our  natural  cor- 
ruption. We  should  point  historically  to  the  tokens  it 
has  given  of  this  sense  of  sin,  in  the  yearning  of  man  for 
a  sacrifice,  a  sufficient  expiation,  and  in  the  innumerable 
inventions  by  which  he  has  sought  to  realize  it.  The 
Cross  of  Christ  would  stand  out  in  bold  relief  as  the  one 


CX)MPLETION   OF   TEACHING   IN   THE   SACEAMENTS.         39 

intelligible  and  satisfying  phenomenon,  which  millions 
among  us  have  recognized  as  the  thing  they  especially 
longed  for  in  their  ignorance  and  darkness, — as  the  sign  to 
which  the  believer  clings  in  faith,  to  which  he  bows  in  hu- 
mility, which  responds  to  his  wants,  and  comforts  him  in 
his  despondency.  And  further,  we  should  present  the 
divine  person  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  the  full  complement 
to  that  of  Christ, — as  the  Comforter,  the  Counsellor,  the 
Sanctifier,  wdio  leads  us  to  Christ,  and  makes  his  cross 
available  for  our  salvation. 

All  this,  we  should  say,  is  the  witness  of  the  con- 
science naturally  Christian.  The  truth  of  the  whole 
cycle  of  saving  doctrine  is  attested  by  the  testimony  of 
the  heart.  We  could  not  be  satisfied  w^ith  less.  The 
apologist  of  the  third  century  stopped  far  short  of  this. 
But  why  ?  He  left  the  deeper  and  the  remoter  doctrines 
of  the  Gospel  for  the  most  part  to  the  teaching  of  the 
church  services, — -in  which  they  may  be  traced  from  the 
fragments  of  her  liturgies,  communicated  as  they  were 
gradually  and  methodically  to  her  advancing  disciples. 
It  was  in  the  sacraments  of  the  Church  rather  than  in 
the  apologies  of  her  champions,  in  her  inner  teaching  of 
her  own  children  rather  than  in  her  outward  addresses  to 
the  Heathen,  that  the  full  import  of  the  Christian  sacri- 
fice was  set  forth,  under  the  invocation  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
It  is  thus,  I  believe,  that  much  which  seems  imperfect  in 
the  polemics  of  TertuUian  may  be  truly  and  sufficiently 
explained. 

The  same  doctor,  it  has  been  said,  lays  little  direct 


40 


LECTURE   II. 


stress  upon  the  historic  truth  of  the  facts  recorded  in  the 
Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament.  He  tells  us  himself 
that  such  an  appeal  would  not  have  answered  his  purpose. 
The  Heathen  would  not  have  listened  to  it.  He  must 
work  with  the  materials  before  him.  He  must  direct  him- 
self to  objects  within  his  reach.  "VVe  must  not  quarrel  with 
his  mode  of  operation.  We  maybe  sure  that  he  knew 
his  own  business.  The  fact  is  that  in  his  ai?e  the  Pagrans 
were  not  jet  sufficiently  moved  by  the  progress  of  the 
new  opinions  to  concern  themselves  with  their  outward 
credentials.  But  the  time  was  at  hand  for  a  more  direct 
demonstration  of  the  Faith.  The  first  direct  assertion 
of  the  historic  truth  of  our  records  is  that  of  Origen,  a 
generation  after  Tertullian,  in  refuting  the  objections 
urged  by  Celsus.  The  objector  was  himself  a  Pagan 
philosopher ;  but  he  was  conversant  with  the  polemics  of 
Judaism,  and  from  them  no  doubt  he  learned — what  he 
would  hardly  have  learned  from  purely  Pagan  sources — 
the  mode  in  which  the  fortress  of  Christianity,  her  historic 
position,  could  be  most  ]3lausibly  assailed.  Accordingly  in 
his  attack  upon  the  veracity  of  the  Gospels  he  assumes 
generally  the  mask  of  a  Jew.  The  Jews,  he  knows,  have 
from  the  first  contested  the  truth  of  the  Christian  records. 
From  the  first  they  have  asserted,  for  instance,  that  the 
disciples  came  by  night  and  stole  the  body  of  Jesus. 
Such  questions  the  Heathen  have  hitherto  scornfully  dis- 
regarded. They  would  not  condescend  to  argue  '  what 
is  Truth  '  with  the  upstart  sectarians.  But  the  Heathen 
is  beginning  to  get  curious  about  it  now.     He  sees  patent 


THE   AKGUMENT   OF   CELSUS   AGAINST   THE   GOSPEL.       41 

before  him  the  engrossing  fact  of  the  success  of  this 
'  illicit  religion.'  He  can  no  longer  put  it  bj.  He  may 
assail  it  again  and  again  with  violence  and  persecution, 
but,  somehow  or  other,  this  mode  of  refutation  no  longer 
satisfies  him  as  of  jore.  It  is  plainly  inconclusive.  It 
has  not  gained  its  end.  He  begins  to  fear  that  it  never 
will  gain  its  end.  His  conscience  demands  to  be  set  at 
rest  about  it.  His  judgment  requires  to  be  fortified 
against  this  importunate  novelty.  He  asks  himself, 
'  How  have  the  Jews  done  with  regard  to  it  ?  They  are 
more  nearly  concerned  with  it  than  we  are.  Let  us  fol- 
low their  footsteps,  and  trace  their  arguments — under 
disguise  at  first — for  we  are  still  half-ashamed  of  entering 
into  controversy  with  the  foe  we  have  been  wont  to  burn 
and  crucify.' 

Accordingly,  Celsus  assuming  the  mask  of  a  Jewish 
doctor,  goes  thoroughly  into  the  question  of  the  historic 
credibility  of  the  Gospels.  He  brings  to  his  task  the 
stores,  no  doubt,  of  earlier  controversy ;  his  arguments 
are  the  ripened  fruit  of  a  full  century  of  Jewish  polem- 
ics. They  are  full,  comprehensive,  shrewd,  ingenious. 
They  combine,  it  is  said,  almost  all  the  points  of  objection 
which  have  been  raised  in  repeated  succession  in  later 
times.  They  fix  themselves  on  the  weak  points,  on  all 
the  apparent  inconsistencies  or  discrepancies  of  the  four 
converging  narratives  ;  they  hit  every  reputed  blot  as  un- 
erringly as  the  shafts  of  the  most  practised  of  the  moderns. 
Celsus  was  assuredly  no  beginner  in  such  a  mode  of  war- 
fare ;  he  was  no  sciolist  in  the  art  of  controversy.     Such 


42  LECTURE  n. 

an  assailant  was  not  to  be  contemned.  His  attack  must 
be  met  and  rebutted  triumphantly.  The  foundations  of 
the  Church  were  imperilled  in  the  face  of  the  world. 
The  whole  array  of  Jewish  and  Heathen  antagonists 
was  standing  tiptoe  in  expectation,  at  a  combat  which 
was  no  longer  carried  on  in  the  obscure  schools  of  op- 
pressed and  cowering  Judaism,  but  had  become  the 
common  quarrel  of  mankind. 

The  new  assault  required  a  new  system  of  defence. 

The  method  employed  by  Origen,  a  worthy  champion 
at  so  momentous  a  crisis,  was  to  show  that  the  records 
of  the  Christian  Kevelation  do  bear  the  seal  of  historic 
fact.  With  the  first  objections  of  the  Hebraic  disputant, 
those  directed  against  the  character  and  condition  of  the 
Messiah — his  lowliness,  his  weakness,  the  fact  of  his 
death  of  ignominy — we  have  little  concern.  The  objec- 
tion is  Jewdsh ;  at  least  it  is  obsolete.  It  is  met  by  the 
higher  and  nobler  view  of  the  ends  of  Revelation  fa- 
miliar to  every  Christian.  The  story  thus  objected  to  is 
shown  to  be  consistent  with  the  methods  of  Divine  Prov- 
idence, to  be  analogous  to  the  circumstances  which  no 
less  attended  the  ministry  even  of  many  Pagan  teachers 
of  acknowledged  wisdom  and  holiness.  But,  what  is 
more  important  for  us,  this  line  of  argument  leads  to  the 
direct  assertion  of  the  personality  of  the  Saviour ;  it  re- 
quires a  constant  reference  to  the  historical  data  of  the 
Scriptures ;  it  asserts  the  veracity  of  the  writers  of  the 
sacred  records ;  it  meets  the  objections  from  their  pre- 
tended inconsistencies  ;  it  brings  into  prominent  relief 


THE   CHRISTIAN    EECOEDS    HISTOKICAL.  43 

the  full  and  constant  conviction  of  the  early  disciples,  of 
the  men  who  had  the  nearest  and  most  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  all  the  circumstances,  and  who  w^ould  have  been 
the  last  to  pin  their  faith,  even  imto  death,  upon  fables 
cunningly  devised  or  carelessly  accepted.  It  shows  how 
many  statements  of  fact,  which  to  us  may  seem  question- 
able or  unintelligible,  were  readily  accepted  by  both'  the 
believers  and  their  adversaries,  in  the  age  which  could 
most  justly  appreciate  the  circumstances.  At  least,  if 
we  still,  in  the  pride  of  our  presumed  advance  in  critical 
sagacity,  demur  to  the  grounds  of  primitiv^e  belief  and 
acknowledgment,  it  proves  beyond  dispute  that  the 
records  we  now  possess  are  precisely  the  same  tliat  lay 
open  to  Celsus  and  to  Origen,  and,  as  we  may  fairly 
presume,  to  some  generations  before  them.  It  estab- 
lishes the  continuity  of  the  Faith,  and  brings  us  face 
to  face  w^ith  almost  the  first  epoch  of  discussion  on  the 
subject.  Christianity,  we  learn  from  it,  has  been  in 
its  main  features,  as  established  by  its  historical  docu- 
ments, one  and  the  same  for  sixteen,  nay,  for  eighteen 
centuries. 

And  perhaps  we  shall  feel  the  better  disposed  towards 
the  evidence  of  Christian  truth  as  maintained  by  the 
genius  of  Origen,  when  we  observe  how  secondary  is  the 
place,  after  all,  which  he  assigns  to  the  testimony  of  mir- 
acles. Origen,  at  least,  is  not  to  be  charged  with  hasty 
illogical  deference  to  the  superstitions  of  an  unscientific 
age.  While  maintaining  the  actual  truth  of  the  mirac- 
ulous narratives  of  the  Gospels,  he  lays  little  stress  upon 


44  LECTTJKE   n. 

them  to  establisli  tlie  tmtli  of  tlie  Christian  Eevelation. 
He  believes  assuredly  in  God's  power  and  will  to  change, 
for  adequate  purposes,  the  appointed  course  of  nature ; 
but  he  would  not  regard  any  apparent  or  actual  miracle 
as  a  proof  of  divine  interference,  apart  from  the  attesta- 
tion of  a  moral  doctrine.  Man  alone — the  heart  and 
conscience  of  man — can  judge  of  the  fitness  of  the  occa- 
sion, and  therewith  of  the  divine  authority  of  the  mira- 
cle. But  the  w^orks  of  Jesus  Christ  do  all  approve  them- 
selves to  the  enlightened  conscience  of  His  creatures. 
Such  signs  could  not  have  been  effected  by  a  power  an- 
tagonist to  God  ;  from  God  they  must  spring,  and  from 
God  only.  The  doctrine  of  the  Saviour,  full  of  love  and 
grace,  was  worthy  that  such  things  should  be  done  for  it. 
It  reveals  salvation  not  to  the  wise  and  prudent  only, 
after  the  f^ishion  of  human  philosoj)hy ;  it  addresses  the 
child,  the  woman,  the  slave,  and  the  ignorant.  It  invites 
all  who  thirst  to  drink  of  the  water  of  eternal  life.  It 
awakens  in  every  bosom  the  sense  of  its  likeness  to  God, 
in  w^hose  image  everj^  man  was  created.  It  treats  with 
respect,  with  reverential  care,  this  image  of  God  in  the 
soul  of  man,  however  fallen  from  its  high  estate.  Thus 
it  justifies  and  explains  the  great  mystery  of  Revelation, 
the  self-abasement  of  the  Mighty  One,  the  sufferings  and 
the  death  of  God  incarnate.  And,  finally,  it  is  not 
ashamed  of  Christ  crucified  ;  it  blushes  not  for  the  Son 
of  God  extended  on  the  accursed  tree  for  the  souls  of  the 
children  of  God. 

And  this  it  is  which  leads  the  great  apologist  to  dwell 


APPEAL    TO    CHKISt's    PEJKSONALITY.  45 

with  especial  force  and  emphasis  on  the  fact  and  mean- 
ing of  the  crucifixion.  It  is  established  by  history,  it  is 
explained  by  theology.  It  is  God  teaching  by  example. 
Origen  regards  the  Crucifixion  as  the  moral  key  to  the 
Gospel  Eevelation,  as  the  explanation  of  God's  dispensa- 
tion to  this  latter  ao;e.  He  maintains  the  exact  truth  of 
the  sacred  narrative  against  the  sneers  of  the  Jew  and 
the  scruples  of  the  Pagan.  For  the  Crucifixion,  in  his 
eyes,  is  Christianity  itself.  The  great  value  of  the  apol- 
ogy of  Origen,  full  as  it  is  of  learning  and  of  feeling, 
consists  in  the  decisive  stand  it  makes  for  the  personal- 
ity of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  for  the  actual  certainty  of 
the  records  of  His  ministry.  This  is  its  character,  its 
principle,  as  compared  with  the  apologies  which  have 
preceded  it.  It  introduces  us  to  a  new  phase  of  the 
mighty  controversy ;  a  phase  which  has  been  presented 
to  many  a  generation  afterwards,  but  which  first  assumed 
its  distinctive  importance  in  the  age  of  the  teacher  be- 
fore us.  And  the  answer  which  we  shall  make  to  men 
that  do  examine  us  must  still  be  in  principle  his :  some 
of  his  positions  may  be  insecure,  some  of  his  weapons 
may  be  obsolete ;  but  the  fortress  he  seized  is  still  the 
stronghold  of  Christianity :  we  will  hold  it  and  defend 
it  for  ever. 

But  Origen  is  a  man  of  wide  and  liberal  sympathies. 
He  does  not  confine  himself  within  the  lines  of  the  aj)ol- 
ogy  from  history.  Again  and  again  he  falls  back  on  the 
generous  theories  of  his  predecessors;  he  gathers  new 
strength  from  contact  with  the  teaching  of  Justin  and 


46  LECTURE   II. 

Clement.  He,  too,  presents  to  ns  the  incarnate  Son  of 
God  as  the  Word  revealed  to  the  philosophers,  as  the  De- 
sired of  all  nations,  yearned  and  hoped  for  by  every  pure 
and  tender  spirit  among  men.  But  to  discern  His  beauty 
and  divinity  beneath  the  veil  of  His  humiliation,  we 
must  have  a  new  sense — the  new  eye  of  a  purified  under- 
standing; we  must  break  with  sin,  raise  ourselves  above 
the  soil  and  dust  of  this  lower  world,  even  to  the  heights 
of  celestial  purity,  beyond  the  taint  of  worldly  sin  and 
corruption.  Those  only  shall  see  and  believe  who  shall 
wish  to  see  and  to  x3rofit.  This  is  the  feeling  which 
Origen  seeks  to  awaken  in  the  mind  of  his  opponent, 
whether  he  be  Jew  or  Greek.  This  he  entreats,  he 
urges,  he  adjures  him  to  entertain.  To  this  end  he  con- 
ducts the  discussion,  and  makes  every  argument  lead  to 
this.  He  preaches  faith.  He  asserts  that  faith  is  to  be 
attained  by  all  who  sincerely  do  the  will  of  God :  '  He 
that  doeth  the  will  of  God  shall  know  of  the  doctrine.' 
Thus  he  reconciles  respect  for  human  nature  with  hatred 
of  sin  which  has  corrupted  it.  His  reasoning  all  tends  to  a 
moral  end.  Oppressed  with  a  sense  of  the  awful  cor- 
ruption of  the  age  around  him,  full  of  the  spirit  of  the 
divine  Master  whom  he  serves,  he  feels  how  w^orthy  the 
Gospel  is  to  reform  mankind,  to  purify  human  nature, 
to  lead  to  God,  and  finally,  through  His  grace,  to  join 
unto  God.  This  union  with  God  is  the  end  of  all  his 
preaching,  the  completion  of  his  aspirations  and  desires. 
It  is  the  end,  he  believes,  of  Christ's  mission  upon  earth. 
To  this  all  things,  in  his  system,  tend  ;  without  this,  com- 


47 


pleted  and  perfected,  tlie  dispensation  of  the  Saviour 
would,  lie  conceives,  be  frustrated.  His  ardour  leads  him 
perhaps  beyond  his  warrant.  His  enthusiasm  overleaps 
the  bounds  which,  a  tamer  and  more  cautious  interpreta- 
tion of  Scripture  has  imposed  upon  the  Church.  He  be- 
lieves in  the  ultimate  reconciliation  of  all  men,  of  every 
soul  of  men,  and  of  devils  also,  to  God — for  so  widely, 
so  fancifully,  does  he  interpret  the  promised  restitution 
of  all  things.  He  quits  the  sure  path  of  Scripture,  and 
wanders  in  the  mazes  of  the  philosophers.  If  this  be  an 
error  in  fact — as,  certainly,  it  exceeds  the  limits  of  the 
revealed — it  is,  at  least,  a  generous  error.  If  it  be  a 
heresy,  it  is  one  which  has  found,  and  is  likely,  perhaps, 
to  find,  few  followers.  If  it  is  too  bold,  there  are  few, 
perhaps,  who  will  have  the  courage  to  embrace  it.  But 
the  Church  of  God  is  a  jealous  Church,  and  to  the  Church 
it  savoured  of  Paojanism :  it  auo-ured  that  reaction  of 
vain  human  imaginations,  which  was  even  then  impend- 
ing, against  which  it  was  the  sacred  mission  of  the 
Church  to  guard.  To  that  jealous  apprehension  of  Pa- 
ganism— above,  below,  on  every  side,  watching  at  every 
aperture  for  an  entrance,  ever  attacking  and  ever  to  be 
repulsed — we  owe  all  our  safety.  And  Paganism  has 
not  been  extinguished,  and  never  will  be  extinguished, 
in  the  self-willed  indiscipline  of  the  human  heart ;  least 
of  all,  as  will  presently  appear,  was  it  extinguished  in 
the  great  age  of  Pagan  reaction,  the  fourth  and  fifth 
centuries  of  our  era.^ 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (A). 


LECTURE    III. 

DOGMATIC    INFERENCES    FROM    CHRIST'S    REVELATION: 
ATHANASIUS  AND   AUGUSTINE. 

CoLoss.  II.  8,  9,  10. 

Beioare  lest  any  man  spoil  you  tlirougli  pMlosophy  and  vain  deceit^ 
after  the  tradition  ofmen^  after  tlie  rudiments  of  the  xwrld^  and 
not  after  Christ. 

For  in  him  dioelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  lodily. 

And  ye  are  complete  in  Him. 

This  text  is  imj)ortant  for  the  purpose  of  these  lec- 
tures, at  the  point  at  which  we  have  now  arrived.  It 
declares,  in  conformity  with  the  whole  tenor  of  the  epistle 
from  which  it  is  taken,  that  Scripture  reveals  the  nature 
of  the  Godhead,  as  of  something  beyond  the  power  of 
human  intellect  to  discover,  as  God's  discovery  of  Him- 
self to  His  creatures  ;  and  at  the  same  time  it  discloses 
to  us  that  which  is  equally  beyond  our  means  of  dis- 
covering for  ourselves,  the  relation  in  which  man  stands 
to  God,  and  the  foundation  of  his  duties  towards  the 
great  Author  of  his  being.  But  it  further  declares  to  us 
that  the  traditions  of  men,  the  rudiments  of  the  world, 
the  imaginations,  the  learning, ,  the  religions,  and  the 


ERA   OF   DOGI^IATIC   TEACHING.  49 

philosopliies  of  tlie  Heathen,  are  ever  prone  to  place 
themselves  in  opposition  to  these  doctrinal  discoveries, 
to  contend  against  them,  to  draw  men  away  from  them, 
and  indispose  them  to  the  reception  of  the  truth  as  it  is 
in  Christ  Jesus.  It  announces  the  solemn  truth  that 
Revelation  is  a  Theology,  and  that  the  natural  man  ever 
rebels  against  its  theological  teaching,  and  is  ever  fall- 
ing away  to  conceits  and  inventions  of  his  own.  It  re- 
minds the  Colossians,  to  wliom  it  is  addressed,  and  us 
unto  whom  its  echoes  have  descended,  of  the  fervent  in- 
vitation before  made  by  the  apostle,  to  acknowledge — for 
love,  for  comfort,  for  understanding — the  mystery  of 
God,  and  of  the  Father,  and  of  Christ,  in  whom  are  hid 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  of  knowledge.  And  this 
more  particularly,  considering  the  danger  in  which  all 
men  actually  lie,  of  '  being  beguiled  with  enticing  words,' 
of  being  made  subject  again  to  mere  Pagan  imaginations 
from  which,  by  God's  blessing,  we  have  been  freed,  of 
being  ensnared  by  human  appetites  and  temptations,  '  for 
which  things  the  wrath  of  God  cometh  on  the  children 
of  disobedience.' 

The  text,  I  say,  is  important  at  the  present  stage  of 
OUT  discussion;  for  we  are  now  arrived  at  an  era  of  dog- 
matic teaching,  of  the  formal  establishment  of  the  Chris- 
tian theology,  of  the  technical  statement  of  the  nature 
of  God,  and  the  relation  of  man  to  Him.  The  Fourth 
Century,  or  the  IsTicene  period,  is  marked  by  the  most 
direct  and  formal  definition  on  these  two  cardinal  points 
of  revealed  religion  ;  by  the  determination  of  the  real 
4 


50  LECTUTE  ni. 

creed  of  tlie  Clmrch  on  tlie  questions  raised  by  the  her- 
esy of  Arius  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  by  the 
heresy  of  Pekgius.  The  Fourth  Century  places  the  re- 
ligion of  Christ  definitively  on  the  basis  of  a  revealed 
Theology,  which  it  has  since  held,  which  has  been  con- 
sistently maintained  as  its  great  characteristic,  in  which 
it  stands  wholly  apart  and  distinct  from  the  pretended 
revelations  or  mythologies  of  the  Pagan  world ;  which 
is,  we  believe,  the  real  pledge  and  charter  of  its  authori- 
ty over  the  human  conscience,  the  seal  of  its  divinity,  the 
secret  of  its  power,  the  principle  of  its  life  and  immortal- 
ity ;  '  even  the  mystery  which  hath  been  hid  from  ages 
and  from  generations,  but  now  is  made  manifest  unto 
His  saints.' ' 

ISTow  this  assertion  of  dogma,  as  the  living  principle 
of  Christianity,  could  not  have  been  maintained  without 
a  previous  assertion  of  the  historic  truth  of  the  records 
on  which  it  is  founded.  The  teaching  of  Athanasius  and 
Augustine,  of  Ambrose  and  Basil,  Gregory  and  Jerome, 
who  all  belong  to  tlie  same  school  of  complete  Christian 
theology,  could  not  have  been  promulgated,  had  not 
Origen  gone  before,  and  brought  prominently  forward, 
as  I  lately  showed,  the  divine  authority  of  the  written 
Word.  The  Apology  against  Celsus,  which  we  coDsid- 
ered  at  our  last  meeting,  is  the  basis  of  the  Athanasian 
and  of  Augustinian  theology.  It  establishes  a  published 
and  recognised  Text,  an  open  Bible,  as  the  accredited 
ground  of  appeal  on  all  hands,  as  a  firm  foothold  and 

^  Coloss.  i.  26. 


DIVINITY   OF   CHKIST.  51 

handliold  for  tlie  professed  theologian,  for  the  man  of 
spiritual  science,  the  deductive  reasoner  from  the  word 
spoken  to  the  Word  who  speaketh.  As  long  as  the  dis- 
tinct claims  of  our  sacred  records  to  the  belief  and  alle- 
giance of  Christians  were  postponed  to  speculative  con- 
siderations, to  the  external  argument  from  their  fulfil- 
ment of  human  angnries  and  imaginations,  advanced  by 
Justin  and  by  Clement,  there  was  no  ground  prepared 
for  the  carefel  textual  investigation  of  the  nature  of  God 
the  Son,  once  a23parent  in  the  flesh,  as  revealed  in  Holy 
Scripture.  Accordingly,  the  utterances  of  the  earlier 
Fathers  on  this  mysterious  subject  were  fewer,  less  dis- 
tinct, less  uniform  and  consistent.  There  was  as  yet  no 
technical  language  on  the  subject ;  the  age  had  not  re- 
quired it,  and  no  one  had  been  impelled  by  the  pressure 
of  demand  to  offer  it.  The  Church,  in  its  corporate  ca- 
pacity, had  been  content  with  its  implicit  belief,  shad- 
owed forth  in  prayers  and  rituals,  not  embodied  in  dog- 
matic treatises.  But  in  the  third  century,  the  polemics 
of  Origen  more  especially  brought  the  importance  of  the 
written  "Word,  of  the  letter  of  Scripture,  more  promi- 
nently into  view ;  and  when,  in  the  age  succeeding,  cir- 
cumstances led  to  a  full  and  anxious  appreciation  of  the 
texts  relating  to  Christ's  divinity,  the  way  had  been  pre- 
pared, the  Church  was  not  sleeping  in  her  temples,  or 
muttering  senseless  liturgies,  but  could  speak  the  thoughts 
which  were  in  her,  imbued  with  the  deepfelt  teaching  of 
her  immemorial  traditions. 

And  these  circumstances — what  were  they  ?     Why 


62  LECTUKE   III. 

did  tlie  question  of  dogma  assiime  sucli  special  import- 
ance just  at  tills  moment  ? 

When,  some  time  ago,  I  was  describing  the  meeting 
of  the  Christian  Fathers  at  the  famous  council  of  Mcsea, 
I  dropped  incidentally  the  statement,  that  many  of  the 
Heathens,  philosophers  and  inquirers,  hovered  about 
the  appointed  place  of  meeting,  and  evinced  both  curi- 
osity and  interest  in  the  question  to  be  debated.  The 
mention  was  by  the  way,  but  it  was  not  without  a  pur- 
pose. Tills  prying  of  the  Pagans  into  the  mysterious 
dogmas  of  the  Gospel  was  a  fruitful  incident ;  fruitful, 
not  only  of  conversion  and  belief  among  the  Pagans, 
but  of  the  formal  establishment  of  Christian  doctrine 
itself,  and  therewith  of  the  permanent  duration  and 
fullest  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom  also;  fruitful 
however,  also,  of  much  internal  error  and  dissension,  of 
schism  and  persecution,  of  the  loss  of  souls  as  well  as 
of  the  gain  of  souls,  of  corruption  and  death  as  well  as 
of  truth  and  salvation. 

For,  in  fact,  the  views  of  Arius,  which  gave  occasion 
to  the  meeting  of  the  Mcene  council,  indicated  some- 
thing more  than  a  difference  of  opinion  among  Chris- 
tians. They  were  really  the  embodiment,  under  con- 
ditions of  Christian  thought,  of  a  germ  of  Pagan 
feeling,  of  which  the  heretic  himself  was  very  possibly 
unconscious.  But  his  eyes  might  indeed  have  been 
opened  to  it  even  by  the  interest  which  the  Pagans  so 
manifestly  took  in  the  question  he  had  launched  into 
discussion. 


AEIANISM   COMPAEED   WITH   PAGANISM.  53 

Arius  might  well  have  applied  to  himself  the  words 
I  have  cited  from  the  apostle :  *  Beware  lest  any  man 
spoil  you  through  philosophy  and  vain  deceit,  after  the 
tradition  of  men,  after  the  rudiments  of  the  world,  and 
not  after  Christ.'  St.  Paul  had  gone  on  to  say :  '  For 
in  Him  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godliead  bodily.' 
And  when  the  heretic  felt,  as  he  must  have  felt,  the 
plain  incongruity,  to  say  the  least,  of  this  last  assertion 
with  his  own  lower  views  of  the  person  of  the  Saviour, 
he  might  have  remembered  that  such  notions  as  his 
were  precisely  those  which  best  accorded  with  the  Pagan 
inventions,  with  that  descending  scale  of  the  divine  hie- 
rarchy which  obtained  more  or  less  distinctly  in  every 
popular  mythology,  in  every  transcendental  theosophy, 
from  the  Ganges  to  the  Tiber. 

The  distinctions,  indeed,  which  Arius  and  his  party 
drew  between  their  views  and  the  extreme  theories  of 
the  Humanitarian  Paulus  are  not  undeserving  of  regard. 
No  doubt  Christ's  divinity  was  an  article  of  their  creed  ; 
and  this  diviuity  they  enhanced  by  allowing  His  pre- 
existence  to  all  the  creation  of  God.  Yet  the  Son 
Himself  they  affirmed  to  be  a  creature ;  His  nature  they 
considered  inferior  to  that  of  the  Father ;  His  existence 
they  maintained  to  have  had  no  actual  beginning ;  He 
was  subject  in  their  view  Himself  to  actual  moral 
probation ;  He  was  liable  to  sin,  adopted  only,  on  proof  of 
His  worthiness ;  the  Logos  or  "Word  they  held  to  be  an 
attribute  of  the  one  God  shown  forth  in  the  Son  as  a 
creature. 


54  LECTUKE   III. 

The  principle  wliicli  underlies  all  these  notions  is 
precisely  such  as  would  recommend  itself  to  a  Pagan 
theologian — the  essential  inferiority  of  Christ  to  God. 
This  principle  oiice  admitted  would  cover  the  Pagan's 
conception  of  all  the  lower  deities  of  the  Olympian 
synod,  of  the  demigods  whom  labours  and  sufferings 
had  raised  to  heavenly  thrones;  of  heroes  and  good 
men  made  perfect,  and  exalted  to  be  benefactors  of  their 
species  in  a  higher  place  and  with  a  wider  sphere  of 
power.  Arianism,  then,  was  a  slightly  disguised  Pagan- 
ism :  it  sprang  from  the  same  recesses  of  the  heart ;  and 
as  such  accordingly  the  shrewd  Athanasius  himself 
expressly  denounced  it. 

Of  this  Arius  may  have  been  himself  unconscious ; 
even  when  advised  and  warned  of  it,  he  may  have  resisted 
or  parried  the  conviction  ;  but  that  the  Pagans  on  their 
part  were  aware  of  it  we  cannot  reasonably  doubt.  The 
Pagans  who  hovered  about  the  council-hall  of  JSlicsea,  or 
listened  on  the  threshold  to  the  discussions  of  the  fathers, 
were  well  assured  that  the  battle  to  be  fought  was  in  fact 
their  own  battle ;  that  the  denounced  of  the  Church  was 
their  own  champion  ;  that  on  the  sentence  of  that  day 
depended  the  definitive  triumph  of  the  new  Theology  and 
the  extinction  of  the  old-world  idolatries ;  or  whether — 
in  some  new  phase,  under  some  thin  disguise,  with  the 
acceptance  perhaps  of  a  Christianizing  phraseology — the 
conceptions  of  the  human  heart,  the  traditions  of  men, 
the  rudiments  of  tlie  world,  should  reassert  their  ever- 
lasting dominion,  and  conquered  Greece  once  more  make 


TEMPOKAKY  DEFEAT  OF  PAGANISM.         55 

conquest  of  lier  conquerors.  It  w^as  not  merely  a  ques- 
tion of  words,  sucli  as  '  same '  and  '  similar ; '  not  a 
question  of  a  letter,  of  a  single  iota,  as  Las  been  so 
petulantly  asserted  ;  but  the  question  of  Cliristianity  or 
Paganism.  Sucli  was  the  issue  in  debate ;  and  the  issue 
was  turned  to  the  Christian  side  by  the  firm  assertion  of 
a  doctrine  founded  upon  such  texts  as  this  before  us: 
*  In  Him  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily.' 

The  controversy  at  Nicsea  was  indeed,  outwardly  and 
in  the  eye  of  the  multitude,  a  civil  war  between  contend- 
ing parties  in  the  Church  ;  but  it  was  not  a  '  war  without 
a  triumph,'  for  it  was  actually  and  implicity  a  struggle 
between  Christianity  and  its  foreign  enemy ;  and  that 
enemy  it  utterly  routed  by  the  blow  which  struck  down 
for  a  time  the  false  brother  Arius. 

For  a  time,  I  say ;  for  a  reverse  of  fortune  was  per- 
mitted, as  you  know,  to  follow,  and  Arius  had  again  his 
hour  of  success  aud  victory;  the  Pagans  pursued  his 
triumph,  and  shared  his  favouring  gale ;  and  we  shall 
see  how  deep  and  deadly  a  wound  they  were  able,  rising 
ever  with  his  rebound,  to  inflict  at  no  distant  time  on  the 
body  of  the  Christian  Church.  So  closely  were  the  Pagans 
and  the  heretics  bound  up  together :  so  truly  was  the  cause 
of  the  one  the  cause  of  the  other  ;  so  plainly  did  the  same 
root  of  error  lie  at  the  bottom  of  both  perversions  of  the 
truth ;  so  necessary  was  then,  as  now,  the  assertion  of 
catholic  truth  to  keep  out  Paganism  from  the  fold  as  well 
as  to  keep  out  heresy.  The  traditions  of  men  and  the 
rudiments  of  the  world  are  ever  sprouting  afresh  in  the 


50  LECTUEE  in. 

vinejard  of  Christ.  The  doctrine  of  God's  fulness  dwell- 
ing bodily  in  the  man  Jesus,  though  many  disregard  it 
as  a  vain  imagination,  is  the  legitimate  deduction  from 
Scripture. 

But  the  text  goes  on  to  proclaim  to  the  true  disciples, 
'  And  ye  are  complete  in  Him.'  Here  is  another  and  not 
less  important  side  of  divine  Revelation,  namely,  the 
relation  of  man  to  God.  Jesus  Christ  has  come  into 
the  world  to  announce  to  man  the  position  in  which  he 
naturally  stands  to  the  Deity  ;  the  state  of  imperfection, 
corruption,  reprobation,  into  which  he  has  fallen;  and 
the  means  divinely  provided  for  recovering  him  from  that 
state,  restoring  him  to  favour  w^th  God,  making  him 
acceptable  to  his  Creator,  and  comj^lete  for  the  end  and 
pnrpose  of  his  creation :  that  is,  for  his  reunion  with  the 
Divine,  from  which  he  seemed  hopelessly  separated. 
This  is  the  Christian  idea  of  religion  ;  quite  different  from 
that  of  the  Heathen  world  ;  quite  different  from  that  con- 
ceit of  personal  merit,  and  personal  sufficiency,  which 
lay  at  the  root  of  the  Pagan  superstitions,  and  colours 
every  deviation  from  the  catholic  doctrine  of  the  Divine 
Mature ;  which  is  constantly  recurring  even  among  us, 
even  among  those  who  have  been  baptized  and  bred  in 
the  true  faith  of  the  Holy  Trinity ;  so  natural  and  con- 
genial is  it  to  the  traditions  of  men,  and  the  rudiments 
of  the  world  within  us. 

The  Apology  of  Origen  had  set  forth  the  merit  of 
Jesus  Christ  as  our  blessed  Redeemer,  and  had  placed 
in  strong  relief  this  great  doctrine  of  Revelation,  the 


EELATION   OF   MAN   TO   GOD.  57 

completion  of  man  by  the  act,  not  of  his  own  virtue,  but 
of  God  his  Saviour — in  short,  the  doctrine  of  Grace. 
That  iUustrious  teacher  had  laid  the  foundation  of  belief 
not  only  in  the  relation  of  Jesus  to  God,  as  of  one  in 
whom  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily ; 
but  also  in  the  relation  of  man  to  God,  as  requiring  the 
sacrifice  of  Christ  for  his  redemption,  and  sanctification 
through  grace  for  his  completion  and  acceptance.  But 
the  lines  thus  broadly  drawn  by  Origen  in  these  different 
directions  were  followed  in  the  next  age  by  two  Christian 
doctors — the  first  almost  exclusively  by  the  one,  the 
second  more  particularly  by  the  other.  Athanasius,  as 
we  liave  seen,  fixed  an  unremitted  glance  on  the  revela- 
tions we  have  received  of  the  nature  of  God  and  of 
Christ :  Augustine,  one  generation  later,  could  allow 
himself  to  dwell  more  emphatically  on  the  nature  of 
man  in  relation  to  God,  and  on  the  divine  method, 
revealed  in  Scripture,  of  his  spiritual  renovation  and 
completion.  Augustine,  indeed,  in  his  manifold  wi'itings 
runs  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  Christian  Theology. 
His  works  are  in  themselves  an  encyclopaedia  of  Theol- 
ogy. His  books  on  the  Trinity,  for  instance,  are  hardly 
less  complete,  searching,  scientific,  than  those  of  Athana- 
sius himself,  whose  attention  to  that  one  theme  was 
almost  undivided.  Nevertheless,  if  we  consider  what  was 
the  great  work  of  Augustine  in  the  Church,  we  should 
say,  I  suppose,  to  establish  the  doctrine  of  human  corrup- 
tion, of  original  sin,  and  the  need  of  grace  divine  to  heal 
him,  and  to  restore  him  to  divine  favour.     Of  all  his 


68  LECTUEE  in. 

controversies  with  tlie  errors  of  his  times  none  is  so 
marked,  none  was  so  important  in  his  own  day,  none  has 
been  since,  and  still  is,  and  ever  will  be  so  important  in 
respect  of  the  eternal  conflict  of  Christianity  with  our 
natural  Paganism,  as  that  with  Pelagius,  and  with  his 
assertion  of  man's  sufficiency  to  work  out  his  own  salva- 
tion by  his  own  merits,  his  own  righteousness. 

In  the  heresy  of  Arius  we  have  traced  the  secret  root 
of  Paganism  still  working  in  the  soil  of  the  human 
heart,  even  among  professed  believers  in  the  Gospel. 
And  again  in  the  heresy  of  Pelagius  we  may  recognise 
the  same  restless  activity  of  our  inbred  Paganism.  In 
both  lay  the  same  implicit  assurance  of  the  sufficiency 
of  human  nature  to  raise  itself  up  to  God  ;  to  receive  of 
the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  ;  to  become  complete  in  Him 
here  or  hereafter.  The  Pagan  mythologies  declared  that 
the  best  and  wisest  among  men  had  been  taken  up  into 
heaven,  and  there  endowed  with  power  apportioned  to 
their  wisdom  and  goodness — ^had  become  themselves 
Gods — Gods  of  an  inferior  caste,  perhaps,  demigods  or 
demons;  and  such  might  be  the  case  again,  such  was 
constantly  the  case — from  Hercules  it  was  but  a  step  to 
Eomulus,  from  Pomulus  to  Augustus,  from  Augustus  to 
the  Caesar,  the  prophet,  or  the  favourite  of  the  hour. 
Again,  the  Pagan  philosophers,  if  they  rejected  this  extrav- 
agance, still  held  and  taught  that  man  had  in  him  every 
element  of  perfection ;  that  he  could  justify  himself,  sanc- 
tify himself,  purify  himself '  even  as  He  is  pure  ; '  and  earn 
from  Him,  whose  eyes  are  too  pure  to  behold  iniquity, 


ATHANASrCS   AND   ATJGUSTINE   CONTEASTED.  59 

the  fulness  of  His  favour  liere,  and  possibly,  in  some  se- 
lect, some  lucky  cases,  future  beatitude  elsewhere.  The 
scheme  of  Arius  played  into  the  hands  of  the  mytholo- 
gists :  the  fancy  of  Pelagius  flattered  and  confirmed  the 
philosophers.  Both  the  one  and  the  other. were  the  best 
allies  of  Paganism  in  the  hour  of  her  defeat  and  humili- 
ation, in  the  hour  of  her  intrigues  to  recover  herself,  in 
the  hour  when,  controlled  by  law  and  forbidden  the  arm 
of  flesh,  she  w^as  striving  by  deceit  and  cajolery  to  regain 
her  empire  over  minds — to  turn  the  flank  of  Christianity 
whose  front  she  dared  not  assail.  How  far  the  great 
doctors  of  the  Church  were  at  the  moment  aware  of  this  ; 
bow  far  they  practically  felt  that  in  striking  down  Arius 
or  Pelagius  they  were  bafliing  the  pontifis  and  the 
Sophists,  we  need  not  curiously  inquire.  Possibly  they 
were  too  fully  engrossed  with  the  object  immediately  be- 
fore them  to  look  through  it  and  beyond  it  to  the  influ- 
ences in  the  back-ground,  to  fond  traditions  of  the  heart, 
and  visionary  ideas  of  the  understanding.  But,  if  it 
were  so,  the  fact  would  be  none  the  less  certain.  From 
our  more  distant  point  of  view  we  can  clearly  see  the 
real  upshot  of  the  contest  they  had  in  hand,  and  recog- 
nise the  Providence  which  at  that  crisis  of  spiritual  reli- 
gion raised  a  barrier  against  Paganism  in  the  genuine 
deductions  from  Scripture  of  the  Church  and  her  doc- 
tors. 

AYhile,  indeed,  we  acknowledge  in  Athanasius  and 
Augustine  two  of  the  greatest  champions  of  Christian 
theology  in  the  contest  with  heathen  naturalism,  we  may 


60  LECTURE  m. 

remark  a  difference,  not  unfruitful  of  results,  in  the  tem- 
per of  tlie  men  themselves,  and  in  the  completeness  of 
their  reasonings.  The  sobriety  and  self-restraint  of 
Athanasius  stand  in  marked  contrast  to  the  impetuous- 
ness,  the  ardour,  tlie  exaggerating  spirit  of  Augustine. 
The  aim  of  Athanasius  is  simple  and  limited.  It  is  to 
establish  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  in  Christ ;  to  show 
that  the  Son  of  God  is  Himself  God  in  the  highest  sense 
— equal  with  the  Father — born  from  all  eternity,  exist- 
ing to  all  eternity — coequal,  coeternal.  These  were  the 
points  at  which  his  opponents  faltered,  on  which  they 
equivocated  or  wavered.  Tliey  lowered  the  dignity  of 
the  Saviour,  and  therewith  the  importance  of  salvation. 
The  controversialist  might  be  tempted  to  dwell  too  ex- 
clusively on  the  distinctness  of  the  Second  Person,  to 
forget  the  obligation  to  identify  Ilim  with  the  First,  or 
again  to  insist  upon  the  Trinity  in  disregard  of  the 
Unity,  to  subordinate  faith  to  logic,  revelation  to  imder- 
standing. 

Tlie  greatness  of  Athanasius  lay,  it  would  seem,  in 
the  perfect  self-command  w^hich  enabled  him  to  retain 
his  grasp  of  his  argument  by  both  its  handles ;  neither 
to  confuse  the  persons,  nor  divide  the  substance ;  not  to 
suffer  his  opponent  to  draw  or  drive  him  into  untenable 
extremes,  to  tempt  him  to  a  spiritual  defeat  by  the  pros- 
pect of  a  triumph  in  logic.  Great  as  Augustine  was,  he 
had  not  this  greatness.  The  fiery  African  sometimes 
launched  his  javelin  beyond  recall.  He  was  overmas- 
tered sometimes  by  his  own  powers  of  logic,  perhaps  of 


Augustine's  doctelne  of  predestination.        61 

rhetoric.  His  victory  was  assured,  but  lie  carried  it  too 
far ;  and  in  overthrowing  the  Pagan  doctrines  of  human 
merit  and  human  sufficiency,  the  errors  of  Pelagius,  he 
was  borne  away  to  the  unqualified,  uncompromising 
enunciation  of  the  total  corruption  and  utter  helplessness 
of  man  ;  to  the  denial  of  all  free-will  and  free  agency, 
and  implicitly  of  all  moral  res^Donsibility,  under  an  ab- 
solute predestination  to  salvation  or  perdition.  He  con- 
templated the  utter  ruin  of  all  created  being  in  the  sin 
of  Adam ;  not  because  all  have  sinned  in  the  weakness 
of  the  flesh  derived  from  Adam,  but  in  and  for  the  sin 
of  Adam  himself;  a  doctrine  very  fearful  in  its  theoreti- 
cal aspect — in  the  dismay  with  which  it  must  affect  us, 
ignorant  as  we  must  be  of  our  lot  fr^om  all  time  predes- 
tined ;  in  the  excess  of  recklessness  or  of  presumption  to 
which  it  may  impel  us  ;  but  which  has  been  found  more 
fearful  still  in  its  practical  consequences,  in  setting  the 
duty  of  bringing  souls  into  covenant  with  God  above  every 
moral  consideration,  of  converting  and  baptizing  by  force 
or  fraud,  by  persecuting  or  by  lying  ;  of  compelling  men  to 
come  in  by  the  sword  of  the  magistrate.  It  gives  a  ter- 
ribly literal  emphasis  to  the  expression  of  Scripture  on 
the  peril  of  the  unbeliever,  of  the  ignorant,  of  the  uncon- 
scious and  the  infant.  It  throws  a  dark  shadow  over 
liuman  nature,  and  aggravates  every  moral  evil  which  it 
proposes  to  exterminate.  It  destroys  bodies  which  are 
not  its  own  to  deal  with,  for  the  shadow  of  a  chance  of 
saving  souls  which  are  none  but  God's  only. 

The  doctrine  of  Predestination  urged  too  logically  by 


62  LECTUEE  in. 

Augustine  against  the  overweening  logic  of  the  natu- 
ralist Pelagius,  has  been,  it  is  too  true,  the  parent  of 
dreadful  horrors;  it  would  have  worked  even  worse 
harm  among  us  hut  for  the  common-sense  and  feeling 
of  mankind,  which  has  practically  denied  its  legitimate 
consequences,  or  more  commonly  perhaps  supplied,  tac- 
itly and  unconsciously,  the  necessary  corrective. 

For  as  in  the  nature  of  the  Divine  Being  as  revealed 
to  our  apprehensions,  there  is  a  logical  contradiction 
which  Faith  must  acknowledge  and  allow  for ;  as  Christ 
upon  earth  was  man,  and  at  the  same  time  was  God  also ; 
as  Christ  in  heaven  is  One  with  the  Father  and  yet  dis- 
tinct in  person  from  the  Father, — so  in  the  relation  of 
Man  to  God  there  is  also  an  inconsistency  to  be  admit- 
ted. An  insoluble  problem  is  enunciated  to  us :  to  prove 
the  coexistence  of  Grace  with  Merit,  to  reconcile  the 
fact  of  Free-will  with  the  theory  of  ITecessity.  There  is 
text  to  be  marshalled  against  text,  reason  to  be  con- 
fronted with  reason  ;  the  mystery  of  the  Man-God  is  re- 
newed in  every  soul  that  is  born  into  the  world  ;  in  each 
of  lis  dwells  a  human  element  combined  with  a  divine 
influence.  The  Gospel,  which  is  the  revelation  of  the 
Man-God,  preaches  also  the  religion  of  Grace  and  of 
Free-wiU.  It  presumes  both  the  one  and  the  other;  it 
declares  their  coequal  authority.  It  presents  to  us  sal- 
vation as  the  decree  of  the  Almighty,  and  the  sovereign 
act  of  His  love;  as  an  act  of  pardon,  of  reconciliation 
to  Himself,  springing  from  His  gracious  favour,  effected 
through  His  Son,  His  well-beloved,  by  a  mysterious  sac- 


AUGUSTINE   AND   PELAGIUS.  63 

rifice  of  iminiaginable  worthiness,  attended  with  the 
effluence  of  His  sanctifying  Spirit.  It  is  not  we  that 
have  chosen  Him,  sought  Him,  supplicated  Him ;  but 
He  that  hath  chosen  us,  come  forth  from  the  recesses  of 
His  being  to  solicit  us.  All  grace,  like  every  other  per- 
fect gift,  comes  down  from  Him  who  is  the  Father  of 
Light.  Yery  true :  yet  this  same  Gospel,  which  thus 
signalizes  the  character  of  Grace,  does  no  less  presume 
and  demonstrate  our  Free-will ;  does  no  less  appeal  to  ns, 
by  our  own  power  and  energy  to  meet  Grace  and  receive 
it,  to  open  our  hearts  to  entertain  the  Saviour,  and  of  our 
own  consent  give  harbour  to  the  Sanctifier.  TVe  must 
come  to  Him  if  we  would  be  saved,  we  must  strive  for 
Him,  T\;e  must  knocJc^  we  must  run  as  in  a  race,  we  must 
take  up  our  cross  and  folloio  Him.  We  must  have  Faith, 
and  do  the  works  of  Faith ;  we  nmst  live  a  life  in  His 
service,  though  we  cannot  see  or  feel  or  handle  Him.  In 
short,  the  Gospel  will  not  suffer  us  to  regard  ourselves  as 
altogether  absorbed  in  God,  and  as  having  no  position 
external  to  Him.  It  will  not  let  us  abandon  ourselves 
to  Mysticism,  to  Quietism,  to  Pantheism.  It  will  not 
surrender  us  to  the  Oriental  heathenisms  asrainst  which 
it  bore  emphatic  testimony  from  the  beginning.  ]^ow 
Pelagius,  a  teacher  from  the  West,  regarded  man — with 
the  western  Pagans,  with  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans,  the 
Celts  and  the  Teutons — as  too  remote  from  God,  too  in- 
dependent of  His  influences.  Augustine,  leaning  un- 
warily to  the  Eastern  enthusiasts,  to  the  dreams  of  Gnos 
tics  and  of  Brahmins,  fell  into  the  opposite  extravagance; 


64  LECTURE   III. 

he  was  led  further  and  further  in  the  ardour  of  discussion, 
to  see  in  man  the  mere  effluence  of  God,  with  no  inde- 
pendence of  his  own  at  alL  True  religion,  not  snapped 
from  a  text  here  or  a  chapter  there,  but  gathered  to- 
gether from  the  full  comparison  of  all  its  teaching — 
from  balancing  Paul  with  John,  and  James,  and  Peter, 
and  holding  Christ  and  His  utterances  supreme  over  all 
— has  maintained  from  the  first  its  equal  measure,  and 
enthroned  a  theory  distinct  from  the  extremes  both  of 
the  Eastern  and  the  "Western  Theosophies.' 

The  bearing  of  what  has  been  now  said  will  be  seen 
perhaps  more  clearly  on  a  future  occasion,  when  we  shall 
examine  the  reaction  from  Christian  dogma  which  char- 
acterized in  many  quarters  the  age  which  next  succeeded. 
For  such,  it  may  be  thought,  was  the  penalty  exacted  of 
the  Church  for  the  triumph  she  too  easily  accorded  to 
the  doctrinal  exaggerations  of  Augustine. 

Nevertheless  we  must  not  fail  at  this  point  to  remark 
how  the  extremes  of  theoretical  teaching  have  generally 
been  tempered  in  practice  by  the  sobering  and  sanctify- 
ing influence  of  Christian  culture.  Both  the  Pelagian 
view  and  the  Augustinian  of  Grace  and  Free-will,  have 
had  their  patrons  and  disciples  among  wise  and  good 
men  in  all  ages.  Both  have  been  favoured  with  recog- 
nition by  schools  and  councils  in  the  Church.  Men,  it 
has  been  said,  are  never  so  bad  as  their  opinions ;  the 
actions  of  good  men  can  hardly  be  so  wrong  as  are  often 
their  arguments.     Christians,  we  may  truly  assert,  are 

^  Notes  and  Ulustrations  (B). 


AUGUSTINE   A   PEEACHEE   OF   MOEALITY.  65 

never  wholly  nncliristiauized  bj  their  doctrinal  eccen- 
tricities.    Of  the  noble  Augustine  we  may  say  at  least, 
that  no  Christian  teacher  has  ever  laboured  more  sedu- 
lously, none  perhaps  more  effectually,  to  build  up  a  lofty 
Christian  morality,  in  spite  of  a  doctrine  which  would 
seem  logically  to  undermine  and  utterly  subvert  it.     The 
consciousness  present  to  him  of  the  actual  mass  of  sin 
around  him — sin  among  the  heathens,  sin  hardly  less 
gross  and  rampant  among  the  Christians,  sin  in  the  court, 
in  the  council,  and  in  the  market-place — overcame  all 
his  theories,  and  impelled  him  to  spend  and  be  spent  in 
the  service  of  godly  morality.     The  time  was  coming,  as 
he  perhaps  himself  anticipated,  when  the  flood  of  human 
corruption  would  overflow  all  its  banks,  and  the  world  of 
culture  and  religion  seem  about  to  perish  in  the  inunda- 
tion.    Against  this  second  Deluge  he  contended  bravely 
to  the  end,  with  his  eyes  ever  fixed  upon  the  rainbow  of 
promise ;  and  fruitless  as  his  efforts  may  appear  at  the 
time — for  thefloo'd  came,  though  God  with  His  own  hand 
arrested  it — he  has  left  to  after-ages,  to  more  hopeful 
ages,  to  our  own  age,  a  store  of  exhortation,  of  precept, 
of  counsel,  which  has  surely  in  all  generations  made 
many  wise  unto  salvation.     He  has  been  himself  for  fif- 
teen centuries  the  salt  of  Christian  divinity ;  every  fresh 
revival  of  religion  among  us  .has  drawn  strength  from 
descending  into  his  medicinal  waters;  and  multitudes, 
we  doubt  not,  in  every  Christian  country  have  been  made, 
through  his  preaching,  complete  in  Christ  their  Saviour.' 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (C). 


LECTUKE    lY. 

RELAPSE  OF  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF  AND  PRACTICE. 

1  Samuel  it.  12. 

They  Tcneio  not  the  Lord. 

I  HAVE  set  before  you  in  the  preceding  lectures  the 
teaching  of  the  doctors  of  the  early  Church  in  its  most 
prominent  feature — namely,  the  recommendation  of 
Christian  doctrine  to  the  Pagan  world.  Justin  and 
Clement,  Tertullian  and  Origen,  Athanasius  and  Augus- 
tine have  passed  successively  before  you :  the  apologies 
for  Christianity  have  gradually  widened  their  base,  and 
the  structure  which  has  been  raised  upon  them  presents 
to  us  the  full  front  of  our  Lord's  dogmatic  teaching ;  the 
revelation  made  by  Him  of  the  nature  of  God,  and  man's 
relation  to  Him. 

Christian  Theology  has  been  expanded  before  us,  the 
economy  of  grace,  the  covenant  of  mercy,  the  theory  of 
Justification  and  Kedemption  in  Christ  Jesus  the  Son  of 
God  the  Father.  This  transcendental  teaching  culmi- 
nated in  the  simple  declaration  that  to  know  God  and 
to  see  God  is  to  do  His  commandments : — that  our  salva- 


THE   TRIUMPH   OF   THE   CHUKCH.  '    67 

tion  is  to  be  worked  out  by  each  of  us  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  Spirit : — that  pure  morality  lies  at  the  root 
of  the  true  Christian  life. 

From  a  foundation  thus  fitly  laid  what  blessed  issues 
might  be  expected  !  The  promise  of  Christendom  had 
been  fair  and  full  of  encouragement,  and  the  labour  of 
the  husbandman  had  not  been  wanting  to  cherish  the 
divine  plant.  The  age  of  the  persecutions  and  martyr- 
doms, the  age  of  sowing  and  watering,  had  brought 
forth  abundantly.  The  lives  of  Christians  had  been  the 
most  effective  argument  for  the  truth  of  their  doctrine. 
By  this  evidence  among  others,  possibly  beyond  all 
others,  had  the  triumph  of  the  Gospel  been  attained — 
that  outward  success  which  we  exalt,  speaking  humanly, 
with  the  name  of  a  triumph — though  while  we  use  the 
word,  and  utter  the  felicitations  it  implies,  we  may  ask 
ourselves  with  a  sigh.  Has  the  success  been  inward  and 
spiritual  after  all  ?  Has  the  worldly  triumph  been  a  tri- 
um.ph  in  God's  eyes  ?  Has  the  Church,  clothed  in  purple, 
crowned  with  the  mitre,  enthroned  in  palaces  and  tem- 
ples, seated  at  the  right  hand  of  emperors,  armed  with 
the  sword  to  punish  as  well  as  with  the  sceptre  to  com- 
mand, secured  the  spiritual  objects  of  her  mission? 
Have  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  as  yet  truly  '  become 
the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and.  of  His  Christ  ? '  ^ 

In  tlie  present  discourse  I  wish  to  set  before  you 
some  of  the  plainest  facts  which  must  tend  to  modify 
and  chasten  our  estimation  of  this  temporal  triumph.     1 

^  Rev.  xi.  15. 


68  LECTURE   IV. 

wisli  to  sliow  how  ill  the  age  of  Athanasius  and  Angus 
tine  themselves,  in  the  age  which  immediatel  j  followed 
the  political  recognition  of  the  Christian  Faith,  there 
was  a  manifest  decline  in  spiritual  religion,  a  decay  of 
spiritual  life  : — how  the  Church  became  in  some  respects 
an  open  apostate;  how  her  love  grew  cold,  her  faith 
languid ;  Christianity  faded  away  into  colourless  indiffer- 
ence :  Paganism,  latent  or  avowed,  recovered  no  small 
portion  of  the  ground  she  had  recently  surrendered  ;  the 
dreams  of  human  speculation-  enticed  men  from  the  firm 
foundations  of  revealed  dogma : — ^liow,  finally,  the  time 
approached  for  the  world  to  be  smitten  with  the  punish- 
ment of  her  backsliding,  and  the  Church  to  be  chastened 
with  a  long  and  terrible  trial,  from  which  indeed  she  has 
never  yet  emerged  in  her  proper  pm-ity  and  power. 
Like  the  strong  man  Samson,  her  locks  were  shorn  in 
penalty  of  her  disobedience,  and  if  her  strength  has  grown 
again  with  her  locks,  the  opportunity  for  its  exercise  has 
been  lost ;  she  has  been  chained  to  the  forms  and  usages 
of  the  world,  and  served  the  passions  and  caprices  of  her 
mundane  task-masters. 

Such  spiritual  declines,  with  their  appointed  penalties, 
have  occurred  again  and  again  in  the  course  of  God's 
dealings  with  His  people.  The  Jewish  Church  was  re- 
peatedly smitten  to  the  ground  for  disobedience,  and 
raised  again,  but  to  a  lesser  share  of  favour  and  enlighten- 
ment, on  its  enforced  repentance. 

Take  the  instance  to  which  our  text  refers,  which 


ILLUSTKATION   FEOM   THE    SIN   OF   ELI.  69 

may  serve  in  more  than  one  particular  to  illustrate  the 
crisis  on  wliich  we  are  this  day  engaged  : — 

'  The  sons  of  Eli  were  sons  of  Belial :  they  knew  not 
the  Lord.'  Eli,  the  judge  and  priest  of  Israel,  was  him- 
self, it  seems,  not  in  the  direct  line  of  priestly  succession. 
He  was  not  of  the  house  of  Eleazar,  the  eldest  son  of 
Aaron,  to  which  the  succession  was  legitimately  due. 
God  had  seen  lit  to  transfer  this  prerogative,  for  ends  not 
disclosed  to  us,  from  the  chosen  branch  of  the  chosen 
family  to  another  stock,  the  house  of  Ithamar.  Again, 
Eli  combined  powers  which'had  originally  been  kept  sep- 
arate in  the  pohty  of  God's  people.  He  was  both  Judge 
and  Priest ;  he  was  chief  political  and  spiritual.  Eli  had 
done  good  service  in  his  youth  ;  he  had  merited  his  ad- 
vancement ;  he  had  distinguished  himself  in  God's  cause. 
But  in  old  age  he  had  lost  his  strength  of  character ;  his 
vices  or  weaknesses  had  gained  dominion  over  him.  In- 
dolence in  spiritual  things,  indulgence  to  worldly  feelings, 
pride  of  place  perhaps,  and  security  in  his  Master's 
favour,  had  allowed  him  to  think  of  his  Master's  business 
as  if  it  were  his  own,  to  prostitute  the  sacred  office  to 
unworthy  purposes,  to  fill  the  priests'  places  with  the 
worldly  and  the  worthless  among  men,  to  favour  his  own 
children  at  the  expense  of  the  people,  and  to  the  dis- 
honour of  God.  The  sons  of. Eli  were  sons  of  Belial; 
full  of  all  manner  of  lewdness  and  corruption ;  turning 
the  service  of  God  into  a  lie ;  turning  themselves  into 
heathens,  infidels,  atheists,  even  in  the  inner  temple  and 
sanctuary  of  the  Most  High.     And  accordingly  God  pre- 


70  LECTUEE   IV. 

pared  a  terrible  judgment.  He  brought  the  armed  hosts 
of  Philistia,  the  old  inveterate  enemies  of  Israel,  to 
Aphek.  He  suffered  His  own  chosen  peoj^le  to  be  over- 
thrown and  smitten  before  the  Philistines.  And  when 
the  people,  stricken  and  dismayed,  said,  '  Let  us  fetch  the 
ark  of  the  covenant  of  the  Lord  out  of  Shiloh  unto  us, 
that,  when  it  cometh  among  us,  it  may  save  us  out  of 
the  hands  of  our  enemies ; '  and  when  the  sons  of  Eli 
tlie  priests  of  God,  Hophni  and  Phinehas,  '  were  there 
with  the  ark  of  the  covenant  of  God,'  and  '  all  Israel 
shouted  with  a  great  shout,  so  that  the  earth  rang  again ; ' 
— then  the  Philistines  when  thej  heard  the  shout  were 
afraid,  'for  they  said,  God  is  come  into  the  camp.  And 
they  said,  "Woe  unto  us  !  for  there  hath  not  been  such  a 
thins:  heretofore.  Woe  unto  us !  who  shall  deliver  us 
out  of  the  hand  of  these  mighty  gods?  these  are  tlie 
gods  that  smote  the  Egyptians  with  all  the  plagues  in 
the  wilderness.  Be  strong  and  quit  yourselves  like  men.' 
And  so  Providence  took  their  side,  for  its  own  divine 
purposes, — and  '  the  Philistines  fought,  and  Israel  was 
smitten, — and  the  ark  of  God  was  taken  in  Shiloh.'  ' 

We  need  not  go  further.  This  special  instance  of 
man's  provocation  and  God's  rebuke,  of  the  falhng  away 
of  God's  Church,  and  of  its  being  smitten  with  a  dire 
discomfiture,  was  repeated  in  tlie  age  which  followed  the 
pohtical  recognition  and  establishment  of  Christianity. 
The  Church  was  enthroned  at  Eome  as  the  ark  had  been 
laid  up  in  Shiloh.     In  Eli,  the  chosen  of  God  by  special 

'  1  Sam.  iv.  3-9. 


EELAPSE   INTO   PAGANISM.  71 

favour  in  place  of  the  legitimate  claimants  to  the  priest- 
hood, we  may  see  the  Christian  Church,  received  into 
God's  covenant  in  place  of  the  Jewish.  The  judge-priest 
may  represent  to  us  that  union  of  Church  and  State, 
that  combination  of  the  secular  with  the  spiritual  power, 
which  marked  this  era  in  the  Eoman  polity ;  a  union  not 
repudiated  by  God  Himself,  nay,  rather  allowed  and 
sanctioned  in  the  one  case  and  in  the  other ;  but  never- 
theless a  union  fraught  with  peculiar  dangers  and  temp- 
tations, exposed  to  excesses  and  corruptions;  a  union 
which,  while  it  answered  its  purpose  in  fusing  the  mani- 
fold prejudices  of  the  nations  into  one  form  of  doctrine, 
did  undoubtedly  produce  many  internal  evils,  and  issued 
in  the  glaring  apostasy  from  spiritual  Christianity  so 
widely  spread  in  the  next  generation.  In  the  faithless 
sons  of  Eli  we  may  notice  •  the  voluptuous  vices,  the 
flaunting  sensuality,  which  disgraced  the  name  of  Chris- 
tians in  the  court,  in  the  temple,  in  private  society ;  the 
corruption  of  the  world,  which  loudly  proclaimed  itself 
no  longer  Pagan  ;  vice  and  sin  so  gross,  so  open,  as  to 
cast  suspicion  on  the  truth  of  Christ,  and  drive  men  in 
despair  from  His  service.  '  Men  abhorred  the  oiferings 
of  the  Lord.'  Men  relapsed  into  Paganism  or  Atheism. 
And  lastly,  the  marshalling  of  the  hosts  of  Philistia, 
the  hereditary  foes  of  Israel,  may  bring  to  mind  the  gath- 
ering of  the  barbarians  on  the  frontiers  of  the  empire  ; 
the  renewal  under  other  auspices  of  that  ancient  strife 
between  the  Germans  and  the  Romans,  now  at  last  to 
be  concluded  with  a  great  and  irreversible  victory.     The 


12  LECTUEE   IV. 

trembling  of  the  Philistines  at  the  appearance  of  the  ark 
in  the  camp  of  Israel  may  represent  the  alarm  of  the 
wild  men  of  the  l!Torth  at  the  terror,  widely  bruited,  of 
Christian  portent  and  miracle.  The  '  Woe  nnto  ns,  who 
shall  deliver  us  out  of  the  hands  of  these  mighty  gods  ? ' 
comes  back  upon  us  with  a  wilder  wail,  in  the  voice  of 
the  proud  Merovingian,  stretched  at  last  on  his  death-bed 
after  fifty  years  of  power : — '  Wa !  wal  who  is  this  king 
in  heaven,  who  thus  slays  at  will  the  great  ones  of  the 
earth?'  ' 

Yet  as  the  spot  where  the  Philistines  encountered  the 
Israelites  was  known  first  by  the  name  of  Aphek,  and 
afterwards  by  the  happier  title  of  Ebenezer,  or  the  stone 
of  help — for  though  vanquished  then,  the  Israelites  did 
on  that  same  spot  gain,  through  God's  help,  a  victory 
later — so  was  this  Aphek  of  the  Christians  succeeded  by 
its  Ebenezer  also  ;  the  military  triumph  of  the  barbari- 
ans became  in  its  appointed  time  the  peaceful  and  spir- 
itual triumph  of  the  Church  and  of  the  Gospel.  The 
Goths  who  entered  Eome  as  Pagans  or  Arians,  remained 
there  Christians  themselves  and  orthodox  believers.  God 
worked  out  His  designs  for  the  victory  of  His  Truth  in 
both  cases.  His  hand  had  been  still  over  the  Israelites 
in  the  darkest  hour  of  their  defeats  and  captivities :  His 
hand  was  no  less  extended  to  save  and  sustain  the  Church 
of  His  own  Son,  when  Alaric  entered  Rome,  and  when 
Attila  retired  before  His  servant  Leo. 

What  was  really  the  proportion  of  professing  Chris- 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (D). 


CONNECTION   OF   CHEISTIANITY    WITH   PAGANISM.  T3 

tians  to  the  whole  population  of  the  Empire  at  the  period 
before  ns,  has  never  been  ascertained;  and  may  even 
baffle  conjecture.  In  the  West  at  least,  and  at  Eome 
especially,  the  Pagans  seem  still  to  have  retained  a  nu- 
merical preponderance ;  and  though  from  the  time  of 
Theodosius,  that  is  during  the  career  of  Augustine  him- 
self, the  celebration  of  their  rites  was  forbidden,  their 
temples  closed  or  overthrown,  there  was  much  covert 
Pagan  service,  much  connived  at,  many  superstitions 
commonly  practised  ;  the  teaching  of  the  Pagan  philoso- 
phies was  openly  allowed  ;  the  schools  were  frequented  ; 
much  learning  and  eloquence  were  employed  in  defence 
of  old  intellectual  associations.  The  Senate  of  Eome 
was  still  the  stronghold  of  the  ancient  traditions ;  and 
neither  shame  nor  fear  repressed  the  profession  among 
numbers  of  every  class,  of  some  shadow  at  least  of  old 
Pagan  belief. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  relative  proportion 
of  the  Christians  and  the  Pagans  at  this  period,  there  is 
ample  evidence  to  show  how  great  had  been  the  reaction 
from  the  simple  genuineness  of  early  Christian  belief, 
and  how  nearly  the  Christian  world  had  generally  asso- 
ciated itself,  in  thought  and  temper,  not  to  say  in  super- 
stitious practice,  with  the  Pagan.  We  must  not  shut 
our  eyes  to  the  fact  that  much  of  the  apparent  success 
of  the  new  religion  had  been  gained  by  its  actual  accom- 
modation of  itself  to  the  ways  and  feelings  of  the  old. 
It  was  natural  it  should  be  so.  Once  set  aside,  from 
doubt,  distaste,  or  any  other  feeling,  the  special  dogmas 


74  LECTURE   IV. 

of  the  Gospel  (and  the  urgency  of  Athanasius  and  Au- 
gustine in  establishing  and  giving  prominence  to  them, 
shows  of  itself  how  commonly  they  were  set  aside  even 
in  the  Christian  communions),  and  men  will  naturally 
turn  to  compromise,  to  eclecticism,  to  universalism,  to  in- 
difference, to  unbelief.  This  was  the  peril  of  the  day, 
which  the  great  Christian  teachers  marked  and  combated. 
Among  the  blunders  of  the  apostate  Julian — who  seems 
to  me  to  have  shown  little  sense  or  discretion  in  conduct- 
ing the  defence  of  Paganism,  and  to  have  thrown  away, 
if  ever  man  did,  the  chance  which  Providence,  for  aught 
we  know,  might  have  given  him  of  suppressing  for  a  time 
the  name  of '  the  Galilean  ' — none  was  so  great  as  that 
of  shutting  against  the  Christians  the  doors  of  the  Pagan 
schools,  and  excluding  them,  as  far  as  was  possible,  from 
participating  in  the  fruits  of  the  old  Pagan  learning. 
The  Christians,  it  must  be  admitted,  were  running  only 
too  precipitately  into  the  snare  there  spread  for  them 
already.  They  were  throwing  themselves,  guilelessly, 
into  the  arms  of  Paganism,  of  a  still  living  Paganism  ; 
for  Pagan  literature  was  not,  could  not  be  to  them,  in 
that  era,  what  it  has  since  become  to  us,  the  mere  shadow 
of  a  life  which  has  been  lived  out  for  ages.  I^o :  the 
schools  of  Athens  and  Alexandria,  and  a  hundred  other 
Pagan  universities,  were  still  open,  still  full  of  thought 
and  life,  still  brooding  over  past  recollections  and  j)re- 
sumptuous  hopes ;  from  day  to  day  they  resounded  with 
some  fresh  augury  of  revived  authority,  and  spiritual 
triumph.     If  the  great  Christian  doctors  had  themselves 


SEMI-CHRISTIAN   TONE   OF   LITERATUEE.  75 

come  forth  from  tlie  schools  of  the  Pagans,  the  loss  had 
not  been  wholly  unrequited  :  so  complacently  had  even 
Christian  doctors  again  surrendered  themselves  to  the 
fascinations  of  Pagan  speculation  ;  so  fatally,  in  their  be- 
half, had  they  extenuated  Christian  dogma,  and  acknowl- 
edged the  fundamental  truth  and  sulhciency  of  science 
falsely  so  called.  We  may  respect,  w^e  may  admii-e,  per- 
haps, the  compliments  and  caresses  which  pass  between 
men  such  as  Augustine  and  Basil,  and  the  most  distin- 
guished teachers  of  these  rival  opinions ;  but  how  was  it 
with  Christian  students  of  less  force  and  firmness  ?  Can 
we  suppose  that  weaker  and  younger  men  did  not  suffer 
their  courtesy  to  decline  into  compromise,  their  compli- 
ments to  descend  to  acquiescence  ?  Even  Basil,  whose 
force  and  firmness  cannot  be  donbted,  indulges  in  his  cor- 
respondence with  friends  among  the  Heathen,  in  a 
laxity  of  language  which  in  another  could  not  fail  to  be 
suspicious  ;  in  one  place  he  professes  to  doubt,  playfully 
perhaps,  but  it  was  hardly  a  time  for  sport,  whether 
the  world  is  governed  by  an  iron  fate,  or  a  capri- 
cious fortune,  in  tones  which  may  possibly  have  been 
suggested,  and  seemed  to  justify,  the  well-lmo^ra  scej)- 
ticism  of  the  great  Pagan  poet  of  the  age.  Of  the  tone 
of  semi-Christianity,  which  pervaded  the  literature  of 
the  age,  where  one  dash,  perhaps,  of  Christian  truth  is 
thrown  in  among  pages  of  mere  Pagan  sentiment,  this  is 
not  the  place  or  opportunity  to  speak.  But  take  one 
instance  only  of  the  apparent  indifference  of  the  Chris- 
tian multitude  to  Christian  teaching,  even  to  its  corrup- 


76  LECTUEE   IV. 

tioiis  received  among  tliem,  as  ^vell  as  to  its  genuine 
truths.  The  Bishop  Sinesius  was  a  famous  man  of 
letters,  bred  a  philosopher,  descended  from  the  kings  of 
Sparta,  an  admirer  of  the  Pagan  Hypatia.  The  people 
of  Ptolemais  demanded  him  for  their  Bishop.  He  pro- 
tests that  his  life  and  practice  are  not  pure  enough  for  so 
holy  an  office ;  he  has  a  wife  whom  he  cannot  abandon, 
as  the  manners  of  the  age  require ;  whom  he  will  not 
consort  with  secretly,  as  the  manners  of  the  age,  it  seems, 
allow.  '  I  never  will  believe,'  he  adds,  '  that  the  soul  is 
born  together  with  the  body  ;  I  will  never  teach  that  the 
world  is  destined  to  perish ;  the  resurrection  as  taught 
by  the  Church,  seems  to  me  a  dubious  and  questionable 
doctrine  ;  I  cannot  yield  to  the  prejudices  of  the  vulgar.' 
In  short,  he  seems  to  mean :  '  I  am  a  Platonist,  not  a 
Christian.'  The  people  leave  him  his  wife  and  his 
opinions,  and  make  him  their  Bishop.  He  retains  his 
Philosophy,  his  Paganism,  his  Universalism,  and  con- 
tinues to  sit  at  the  feet  of  its  expounders. 

Par  be  it  from  me,  far  be  it  from  any  of  us,  to  repu- 
diate or  disparage  the  combination  of  a  taste  for  letters 
with  the  cultivation  of  Christian  sentiment.  But,  I  re- 
peat, there  is  a  time  for  all  things  ;  and  it  was  no  time 
for  these  dallyings,  when  Paganism  was  still  a  power 
outside  the  Church,  while  dogmatic  errors,  closely  allied 
to  Paganism,  and  leading  directly  to  it,  were  rampant 
and  flourishing  within  it.  There  were,  doubtless,  as  I 
have  said,  among  the  Christians  of  that  age  strong  minds, 
on  which  this  dano-erous  taste  exercised  no  fatal  influence. 


CRITICAL   MOMENT   FQK   CHEISTIANITY.  T7 

There  is  sometliing  peculiarly  touching  and  consoling  in 
the  kindly  intercourse  of  the  good  and  saintly  Paulinus 
with  the  good-natured  man  of  the  world,  only  nominally 
Christian,  if  Christian  even  in  name,  Ausonius.  The 
rough  and  vigorous  Jerome  remained  staunchly  Christian, 
inflexible  in  doctrine,  to  the  end: — and  a  shrewd  man 
of  the  world,  too,  in  some  respects,  notwithstanding  his 
fervent  addiction  to  Heathen  literature,  his  admiration, 
over  which  he  himself  sighs,  and  almost  shudders,  for 
the  chiefs  of  profane  philosophy,  for  his  Plato  and  his 
Cicero.  In  his  cave  at  Bethlehem  he  employed  scribes 
to  copy  for  him  the  great  master  works  of  antiquity. 
His  own  masculine  spirit  may  have  been  untainted  by 
what  he  himself  regarded  as  a  sweet  poison  ;  but  how  it 
may  have  fared  with  his  transcribers,  he  did  not  pause, 
it  seems,  to  inquire. 

This  is  no  hollow  declamation;  no  sour  Puritanic 
fancy.  The  moment  was  a  critical  one.  Paganism  was 
not  a  peril  to  be  trifled  with.  Another  generation  of 
the  Chm'ch  triumphant,  of  ease  in  the  Christian  Zion, 
and  the  Gospel  we  find  was  almost  eaten  out  from  the 
heart  of  the  Christian  society.  I  speak  not  now  of  the 
pride  of  its  spiritual  pretensions,  of  the  corruption  of  its 
secular  politics,  of  its  ascetic  extravagances,  its  mystical 
fallacies,  of  its  hollowness  in  preaching,  or  its  laxity  in 
practice  : — of  its  saint  worship,  which  was  a  revival  of 
hero-worship ;  its  addiction  to  the  sensuous  in  outward 
service,  which  was  a  revival  of  idolatry.  But  I  point  to 
the  fact  less  observed  by  our  church  historians,  of  the  ab- 


78  LECTURE   IV. 

solute  defect  of  all  distinctive  Christianity  in  the  utter- 
ances of  men  of  the  highest  esteem  as  Christians,  men  ol 
reputed  wisdom,  sentiment,  and  devotion.  Look,  for  in- 
stance, at  the  remains  we  possess  of  the  Christian  Boe- 
thius ;  a  man  whom  we  know  to  have  been  a  professed 
Christian  and  Churchman,  excellent  in  action,  steadfast 
in  suffering,  but  in  whose  writings,  in  which  he  aspires 
to  set  before  us  the  true  grounds  of  spiritual  consolation 
on  which  he  rested  himself  in  the  hour  of  his  trial,  and 
on  which  he  would  have  his  fellows  rest,  there  is  no  trace 
of  Christianity  whatever,  nothing  but  pure  unmingled 
naturalism.  See  here  a  conspicuous  instance  of  the  Pa- 
gan reaction  of  the  age  which  succeeded  Constantine : 
here  is  one  example,  a  host  in  itself,  of  the  dereliction,  so 
to  call  it,  from  Christian  dogma  in  a  world  professedly 
Christian.  Here  is  a  justification  of  the  energy  with 
which  an  Athanasius  and  an  Augustine  insisted  on  the- 
oretic and  distinctive  Christianity.  In  spite  of  their 
teaching,  unless  it  please  you  to  say  that  it  was  a  natu- 
ral revolt  against  it,  as  excessive  and  tyrannical,  the  gen- 
eration which  followed  them  sank  back  into  a  vague, 
diluted,  historic  Christianity,  which  had  none  of  the  spir- 
itual characteristics  of  the  Gospel,  none  of  its  living 
force  and  power,  none,  we  may  apprehend,  of  its  sancti- 
fying and  saving  grace.  It  was,  if  you  please,  such  a 
reaction  as  turned  the  court  of  Rome  before  the  Eefor- 
mation  into  a  Pagan  consistory — made  popes  and  cardi- 
nals deride  covertly  the  Resurrection  and  the  Judgment, 
and  these  falles^  as  they  whispered  among  themselves, 


DECLINE    OF   CHRISTIAN   MOKALITY.  Y9 

bv  whicli  we  live  so  elegantly  : — sucli  a  reaction  as  re- 
duced the  serious  and  thoughtful  Church  of  England  of 
the  seventeenth  century  to  the  pale  morality  and  cold 
materialism  of  the  eighteenth  ; — such,  let  me  add,  as  in 
still  later  times  has  replaced  the  austere  dogmatism  of  a 
few  years  back  by  the  fitful  and  fretful  indifferentism 
which  holds  out  its  languid  hands  to  infidelity  and  su- 
perstition among  ourselves.' 

But  see  in  conclusion  how  this  decline  of  distinctive 
Christian  belief  was  accompanied  with  a  marked  decline 
of  Christian  morality.  Heathenism  reasserted  its  empire 
over  the  carnal  afiections  of  the  natural  man.  The  pic- 
tures of  abounding  wickedness  in  the  high  places  and 
the  low  places  of  the  earth,  which  are  presented  to  us  by 
the  witnesses  of  the  worst  Pagan  degradation,  are  re- 
peated, in  colours  not  less  strong,  in  lines  not  less  hideous, 
by  the  observers  of  the  gross  and  reckless  iniquity  of  the 
so-called  Christian  period  now  before  us.  It  becomes 
evident  that  as  the  great  mass  of  the  careless  and  indifier- 
ent  have  assumed  with  the  establishment  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  in  authority  and  honour,  the  outward  garb 
and  profession  of  Christian  believers,  so  with  the  decline 
of  belief,  the  corruption  of  the  visible  Church,  the  same 
masses,  indifferent  and  irreligious  as  of  old,  have  rejected 
the  moral  restraints  which  their  profession  should  have 
imposed  upon -them. 

Let  us  fix  our  eyes  for  a  few  moments  upon  these 
symptoms,  their  causes  and  their  consequences. 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (E). 


80  LECTURE   IV. 

Tlie  Pagans  liad  run  tlirougli  their  intellectual  and 
spiritual  course  :  like  tlie  aged  emperor  on  liis  death-bed, 
the  once  vigorous  and  restless  conqueror,  now  subdued 
by  pain  and  weakness,  and  reduced  to  contemplate,  from 
his  low  estate,  the  vanity  of  his  efforts  and  his  triumphs, 
they  might  exclaim  with  Severus,  '  I  have  been  every- 
thing, and  nothing  has  answered.'  They  had  tried  every 
speculation  of  the  human  mind  so  as  to  seize,  if  it  might 
be,  the  truths  of  morals  and  religion,  and  so  find  rest  for 
their  souls ;  and  nothing  had  succeeded  with  them.  The 
fantastic  visions  of  philosophy  had  replaced  the  triviali- 
ties of  mythology  ;  and  these  again  had  been  discarded 
for  the  monstrosities  of  magic  and  mysticism.  But 
nought  had  served  to  quiet  their  conscience,  to  calm 
their  terrors,  and  assuage  their  remorse,  to  bring  them 
nearer  to  God.  At  last  they  had  thrown  tliemselves, 
with  a  divine  impulse,  upon  Christ,  and  had  found  in 
Him  a  faith  and  a  hope. 

But  we  must  not  imagine  that  man,  thus  turned  to 
God  in  the  decrepitude  of  age,  or  in  the  weakness  of  his 
last  sickness,  can  serve  Him,  even  for  the  brief  remnant 
of  his  days,  with  a  lusty  and  effectual  service.  In  the 
Christian  faith  of  the  converted  empire  we  must  not  look 
for  the  vigour,  tlie  simplicity,  and  the  self-devotion 
which  are  required  for  carrying  on  God's  work,  for  show- 
ing forth  its  strength  and  beauty,  for  propagating  vigor- 
ous offshoots  throughout  the  world.  The  development 
of  the  Church  after  Constantino  partook  of  the  sickness 
and  infirmity  of  that  enervated  society  in  which  it  was 


THE    OLD    AGE    OF    ANCIENT    CrV^ILIZATION.  81 

cast.  We  marvel  sometimes,  we  feel  disappointment,  or 
even  dismay,  at  the  apparent  failure  of  the  pure  and  holy 
Gospel,  when  full  play,  full  power,  fall  authority,  were 
first  given  to  it  among  men.  Granting  all  the  greatness 
of  the  greatest  men  of  the  Church  triumphant — of  its 
Augustine,  its  Chrysostom,  its  Jerome,  its  Ambrosius — 
how  much  greater  than  any  of  the  contemporary  hea- 
then ! — granting  the  fresh  spiritual  tone  it  infused  into 
legislation ;  the  higher  tone  of  its  polity  ;  its  clearer  ap- 
preciation of  duty ;  its  nearer  sense  of  the  divine ;  the 
loftier  rule  it  preached,  at  least,  of  holiness  and  good- 
ness : — granted  that  the  Holy  Spirit  really  brooded  over 
it,  and  showed  forth  His  presence  by  signs,  such  as  have 
never  been  wholly  wanting  to  it  in  any  stage  of  its  pro- 
gress ; — nevertheless,  men  remarked  with  pain  and  per- 
plexity how  far  Christianity — established,  favoured,  and 
protected — fell  short  of  the  promise  it  had  given  in  weak- 
ness, in  obscurity,  or  in  persecution ;  how  far  it  had  fall- 
en from  the  bright  ideal  inscribed  in  letters  of  light  on 
the  pages  of  its  heavenly  credentials. 

But  men  judge  the  Gospel  wrongly.  They  do  not 
regard,  as  they  should  do,  the  materials  on  which  it  had 
now  to  exert  itself;  the  mass  of  decay,  decrepitude,  cor- 
ruption, which  it  was  summoned  to  enliven  and  regen- 
erate. The  conversion  of  the  Empire  was  the  effort  of 
the  old  age  of  civilization  to  throw  off  the  humours 
which  were  devouring  its  very  life;  to  revive  its  lost 
strength ;  to  straighten  the  bent  limbs ;  to  smooth  the 
wrinkles  on  its  countenance ;  to  renew  its  youth  as  the 
6 


82  LECTUEE   IV. 

wings  of  the  young  eagle.  It  liad  run  to  many  quacks 
and  pretenders,  and  all  that  human  science  could  do  had 
been  done  for  it.  At  last,  it  had  resorted  to  the  true 
Physician  of  Souls ;  it  had  drunk  of  the  waters  of 
spiritual  life,  but  they  were  no  elixir  of  physical  renova- 
tion. The  decay  of  the  vital  powers  of  Roman  society 
was  beyond  cure.  Jesus  Christ  had  no  medicine  for  the 
sickness  of  the  body  politic.  All  our  admiration  for  the 
great  names  of  the  Church  of  Nicaea  cannot  blind  us  to 
her  imperfect  apprehension  of  divine  truth,  and  the  still 
more  imperfect  practice  of  her  children.  We  know  how 
grievously  she  erred  in  suppressing  many  truths,  in 
exalting  to  undue  eminence  some  graces  doubtful  at  the 
best,  and  easily  swoln  or  perverted  into  errors.  '  How  is 
the  gold  become  dim !  how  is  the  most  fine  gold  changed ! '  * 
It  was  in  the  epoch  of  her  greatest  power  and  grandeur 
that  Jerome,  moved  with  holy  fervour,  threatened  to 
write  her  history,  as  the  most  terrible  of  protests  against 
her,  of  which  the  theme  and  burden  should  be  the  four 
scathing  words,  '  Greater  in  riches,  less  in  virtues.' 

This  is  not,  be  assured,  the  idle  retrospect  of  later 
ages,  exulting,  vainly  perhaps,  in  superior  knowledge 
or  sanctity  of  its  own.  It  is  not  the  judgment  of  a 
Reformed  Church  looking  askance  at  the  faults  and 
weaknesses  of  an  age  which  laid,  no  doubt,  the  founda- 
tion of  many  of  the  grossest  corruptions  of  later  times. 
'No  :  it  is  the  grave  and  repeated  assertion  of  the  best  and 
wisest  contemporaries. 

*  Lamentations  iv.  1. 


ABOUNDING   INIQUITY.  83 

From  the  age  of  Cyprian  downwards,  when  the  first 
symptoms  of  moral  degeneracy  were  noticed,  the  chain 
of  witnesses  to  this  decline  is  close  and  nnbroken.  We 
read  it  in  the  rude  satire  of  Commodian,  in  the  earnest 
pathos  of  Angustine,  in  the  politic  wisdom  of  Ambrose. 
"We  read  it  again  in  the  indignant  rhetoric  of  Salvian, 
in  the  courtlier  survey  of  the  gentle  Sidonius.  The 
Acts  of  Severinus,  the  apostle  of  Bavaria,  attest  it ;  the 
laments  of  our  British  historian,  the  so-called  Gildas, 
derive  from  it  their  greatest  poignancy.  And  there  is 
no  witness  to  it  more  grave,  perhaps,  and  trustworthy, 
than  the  great  Roman  bishop  Leo  ;  none  whose  declara- 
tions on  the  subject  may  be  deemed  more  striking  and 
conclusive. 

The  utter  laxity  of  moral  conduct  which  had  thus 
succeeded  to  the  strictness  of  living  in  the  early  Chris- 
tian society  is,  by  these  men  and  others,  too  closely  in- 
vestigated and  exposed ;  it  is  too  plainly  and  numer- 
ously attested  to  admit  of  doubt  or  extenuation.  It 
runs  back  into  the  old  Pagan  channels  with  a  precision 
too  natural  for  fiction.  The  temples,  the  sacrifices,  the 
public  shows  and  festivals,  reassert  their  hold  on  the 
imagination :  the  vices  to  which  Paganism  had  lent  her 
cloak  or  sanction  claim  again  connivance,  indulgence, 
and  authorization.  The  preacher  calls  aloud  for  a  spe- 
cial intervention  of  God  to  sustain  the  weak  and  weary 
efforts  of  His  Church  now  vainly  militant  upon  earth. 
'  So  does  iniquity  abound '  (such  is  the  common  tone  of 
his  complaints),  ^  that  either  all  men  are  themselves  bad, 


84  LECTURE   IV. 

or,  if  good,  they  are  cruelly  persecuted  by  the  many  : ' 
'  thus  are  verified  the  words  of  the  apostle,  "  The  whole 
world  lieth  in  wickedness." '  *  'No  wonder  worse  and 
worse  daily  befalls  us,  who  are  becoming  more  wicked 
daily.' 

But  '  that  which  decayeth  and  waxeth  old  is  ready 
to  vanish  away.' '  The  foe  was  now  nigh  at  hand,  even 
at  the  door.  From  day  to  day,  from  year  to  year,  came 
on  the  invading  barbarian,  sapping  and  mining  with 
stubborn  perseverance  the  bulwarks  of  the  Roman 
empire.  Then  mourned  the  Church  in  sackcloth  and  in 
ashes  ;  and  above  the  din  of  arms  and  the  mm^murs  of 
lamentation  was  heard  the  voice  of  the  priest  and 
preacher,  explaining  and  vindicating  the  chastisements 
of  Providence,  which,  long  provoked  and  forbearing, 
now  laid  all  the  weight  of  its  arm  upon  her.  Her  sins 
had  long  called  out  for  vengeance ;  and  behold !  ven- 
geance had  overtaken  her.  Strickened  and  dismayed, 
she  still  turned  not  heartily  to  God.  She  was  too  far 
gone  in  her  wickedness  to  repent.  Her  last  state  was 
worse  than  her  first ;  for  the  sense  of  the  divine  retri- 
bution had  soured  and  hardened  her;  her  levity  had 
turned  to  stubbornness,  her  disobedience  to  blasphemy 
and  unbelief.  In  the  east  and  west,  the  north  and  the 
south,  according  to  the  concurring  testimony  of  affright- 
ed observers,  the  same  phenomena  were  distinctly  visi- 
ble ;  the  signs  of  a  general  degeneracy,  of  an  impending 
relapse  into  Paganism,  even  in  new  and  monstrous  forms, 

'  Heb.  viii.  13. 


ABOUNDING   INIQUITY.  35 

befitting  the  senile  decrepitude  of  a  world  on  its  death- 
bed. It  was  an  angnrj  of  judgment  no  longer  to  be 
delayed  ;  for  '  ^  that  which  beareth  thorns  and  briars  is 
rejected,  and  is  nigh  unto  cursing :  whose  end  is  to  be 
burned.'  ^ 

^  Heb.  vi.  8.  2  Notes  and  Illustrations  (F). 


LECTUEE   Y. 

PREPARATION  OF  THE  NORTHERN  NATIONS  FOR  THE 
RECEPTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

St.  Luke  i.  80. 

And  the  child  grew   and  loaxed  strong  in  sjyirit,  and  loas  in  the 
deserts  till  the  day  of  his  shewing  unto  Israel. 

The  contrast  between  youth  and  age  so  vividly  pre- 
sented to  us  in  the  opening  chapter  of  St.  Luke's  Gospel 
has  a  solemn  interest  for  all  men.  The  contrast  in  the 
mere  outward  lineaments,  as  it  appeared  to  the  bystand- 
ers, between  John  and  his  aged  parents,  between  the  in- 
fant Jesus  and  Joseph  and  Simeon,  is  heightened  to  the 
eye  of  faith  by  our  sense  of  the  deeper  moral  contrast 
involved  in  it ;  and  from  this  spiritual  intuition  the  great 
painters  of  sacred  story  have  drawn  no  small  portion  of 
their  energy  in  imagining  and  portraying.  I  too  would 
invite  you  to  consider  it  in  its  spiritual  bearing,  and  see 
in  it  the  operation  of  God's  providence  in  the  religious 
training  of  His  creatures. 

First  stands  before  us  an  ancient  priest  named  Zacha- 
rias,  with  his  aged  wife  Elizabeth,  both  descended  from 
the  priestly  race,  both  righteous  before  God,  wall^ing  in 


ZACHAEIAS    AND    ELIZABETH.  87 

all  tlie  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the  law  blame- 
less ;  both  doubtless  feeling  deeply  the  corruption  of  their 
age,  the  sinfulness  of  their  people,  and  the  drawing  back 
of  God's  hand  from  the  children  of  His  promise,  the 
veiling  of  His  face  before  their  abounding  iniquity. 
Tliey  had  no  child,  and  both  were  now  well-stricken  in 
years ;  they  could  not  hope  to  leave  behind  them  a  root 
of  righteousness  sprung  from  their  own  holy  stock ;  they 
could  bequeath  no  seed  of  renovation  to  a  world  far  sunk 
in  sinfulness  and  corruption.  Then  God  Himself  inter- 
venes. An  angel  conveys  His  message  of  grace  and 
hope.  What  man  could  not  anticipate,  and  natural  or- 
der could  not  produce,  shall  be  eifected  by  a  special  Prov- 
idence from  on  high.  ^Fear  not,  Zacharias;  thy  prayer 
is  heard,  .  .  .  thy  wife  shall  bear  thee  a  son.  .  .  . 
Thou  shalt  have  joy  and  gladness,  and  many  shall  re- 
joice at  his  birth.  .  .  .  Many  of  the  children  of  Israel 
shall  he  turn  to  the  Lord  their  God :  and  he  shall  go  be- 
fore Him  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elias,  ...  to 
make  ready  a  people  prepared  for  the  Lord.' ' 

And  then  pass  on  to  the  period  of  the  months  com- 
pleted, and  behold  this  promised  child,  this  destined 
messenger,  this  appointed  instrument  of  grace  to  men, 
brought  forth  among  his  assembled  kindred  for  enrol- 
ment in  the  Church  of  the  Covenant : — mark  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  token  by  which  the  promise  should  be  at- 
tested, and  the  glorious  confidence  with  which,  on  its 
fulfilment,  the  favoured  father  bursts  into  prophetic  num- 

'  St.  Luke  i.  13-1 7. 


05  LECTUKE    V. 

bers.  His  moutli  was  opened,  and  his  tongue  was  loosed, 
and  he  spake  and  praised  God.  He  was  filled,  with  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  prophesied,  saving,  '  Blessed  be  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel,  for  He  hath  visited  and  redeemed 
His  people ;  And  hath  raised  np  a  horn  of  salvation  for 
us  in  the  house  of  His  servant  David.  And  thou.  Child, 
shalt  be  called  the  Prophet  of  the  Highest ;  for  thou 
shalt  go  before  the  face  of  the  Lord  to  prepare  His  ways, 
to  give  knowledge  of  salvation  unto  His  people  by  the 
remission  of  their  sins,  through  the  tender  mercy  of  our 
God  ;  whereby  the  day-spring  from  on  high  hath  visited 
us.' 

Thus  at  the  very  outset  of  the  Gospel  our  attention 
is  arrested,  our  imagination  is  roused,  by  the  contrast  so 
vividly  brought  before  us  between  the  aged  believer,  just 
about  to  quit  the  scene  of  his  faithful  labours,  in  hope 
and  peace,  and  the  infant  child  on  whom  his  hope  and 
faith  repose,  whose  career  is  all  before  him — a  career  of 
faithful  labour  and  of  spiritual  endurance.  A  world  is 
rolling  away,  a  new  world  is  gliding  in.  We  feel  our 
sympathy  attracted,  according  to  the  temper  of  each  of 
us,  to  the  old  man  about  to  depart,  or  to  the  infant  of 
whom  so  great  a  future  is  promised :  to  the  past  achiev- 
ments  of  faith  and  obedience,  or  to  the  future  auguries 
of  hope.  We  look  to  the  gray  hairs  and  the  staff  which 
supports  the  tottering  steps,  and  again  to  the  child  in  its 
mother's  arms,  to  the  cradle  in  which  it  has  been  resting. 
The  imagination  seems  instinctively  to  realize  on  the  one 
hand  the  genius  of  the  past,  on  the  other  the  genius  of 


THE  AGED  AND  THE  YOUTHFUL  BELIE VEE.      89 

the  fiitnre.  In  Zacharias  we  remark  the  minister  of  a 
religion  appointed  for  a  time ;  in  John  the  herald  of  a 
kingdom  to  endure  for  everlasting. 

The  scene  of  Zacharias  returning  thanks  for  the  birth 
of  John  is  a  prelude  to  another  and  a  still  more  solemn 
one  which  is  soon  to  follow,  when  the  aged  Simeon 
blesses  God  for  the  greater  revelation  of  the  infant 
Jesus :  '  Lord,  now  lettest  Thou  Thj  servant  depart  in 
peace,  according  to  Thy  word,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen 
Thy  salvation,  which  Thou  hast  prepared  before  the  face 
of  all  people ;  a  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  and  to  be 
the  glory  of  Thy  people  Israel.' 

Such  contrasts  between  youth  and  age,  between  the 
past  and  the  future,  occur  elsewhere  in  Scripture ;  and 
trained  as  we  are  by  our  Christian  faith  to  look  ever  for- 
ward for  new  manifestations  of  divine  grace  and  power, 
they  tend  to  preserve  in  us  a  fresh  and  living  sense  of 
the  progress  of  the  divine  dispensations.  God,  we  feel, 
is  the  same  God  from  generation  to  generation ;  ever 
creating  afresh  from  the  old  materials ;  ever  producing 
life  out  of  death,  vigour  out  of  decay  ;  ever  casting  off 
the  old  plumes  and  feathers,  and  renewing  mankind  like 
the  young  eagles. 

But  these  contrasts  are  not  always  thus  joyous  and 
serene.  It  is  not  always  a  contrast  between  the  good 
and  faithful  servant  who  has  done  his  work,  and  is  about 
to  enter  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord,  and  the  youthful  disci- 
ple who  is  to  succeed  him  and  surpass  him.  We  have  a 
more  painful  contrast,  yet  one  not  less  signi'ficant  and  in- 


90  LECTURE   V. 

structive,  in  the  relations  between  Eli  and  Samuel  pre- 
sented to  ns  in  the  Old  Testament. 

Here  too  the  child,  like  John,  like  Jesns,  is  highly 
favoured  of  God.     He  too  grows  up  in  favour  with  God 
and  man.     He  is  set  up  for  the  instruction  of  his  people, 
to  be  the  strength  and  glory  of  Israel,  to  the  glory  of 
God,  to  the  manifestation  of  his  own  faith  and  obedience. 
His  work  is  less  highly  exalted  than  that  of  the  Baptist, 
the  herald  of  the  spiritual  Day-spring ;  his  sphere  is  more 
limited,  his  means  less  powerful,  his  influence  less  con- 
spicuous.    ISTevertheless  he  has  his  stated  part  to  play  in 
the  divine  economy.     For  this  he  is  prepared  by  a  special 
dispensation.     To  this  he  is  devoted  from  his  birth,  kept 
apart  from  men,  and  consecrated  to  the  Lord.    He  too  is 
a  pattern  child,  and  grows  to  be  a  pattern  man  ;  to  bear 
the  full  weight  of  God's  command  upon  his  shoulder  and 
to  bear  them  triumphantly  to  the  end.     But  not  so  Eli. 
The  aged  Judge  of  Israel  is  not  to  be  compared  for  faith 
and  sanctity  with  the  righteous  Zacharias  or  the  devout 
Simeon.     He  is  rather  set  before  us  as  a  warning.     He 
bears  indeed  a  part  in  the  economy  of  God's  dispensation. 
He  is  an  instrument  in  God's  hands,  and  not  a  mere 
worthless  instrument.     He  is  not  wholly  reprobate.     He 
rules  his  people  perhaps  with  some  sense  of  justice  ;  he 
teaches  them  with  some  sense  of  truth  ;  he  is  not  insensi- 
ble to  the  beauty  of  holiness,  or  indifferent  to  the  bless- 
ings of  grace.      He  feels  the  motions  of  natural  affec- 
tion ;  but  his  natural  affection,  unchecked  and  unchast- 
ened  by  a  higher  law,  becomes  his  snare,  and  effects  his 


THE  DEATH-BED  OF  THE  AGED.  91 

downfall.  His  virtues  are  mellowed  and  corrupted  into 
sins,  and  have  become  to  him  an  occasion  of  falling.  And 
these  sins  have  grown  upon  him  and  entwined  themselves 
around  him,  till  they  smother  the  seeds  of  grace  in  his 
heart ;  -  and  he  will  not  tear  them  off  and  trample  them 
down.    Therefore  throuo-h  the  wickedness  of  the  children 

o 

whom  he  has  indulged,  and  set  up  in  God's  place  in  his 
heart,  he  brings  Israel  to  ruin,  his  family  to  shame,  him- 
self to  despair  and  death. 

How  often  and  how  strikingly  is  this  contrast  pre- 
sented to  the  view  of  the  Christian  minister  in  the  course 
of  his  ordinary  duties  ! 

He  visits  the  deatli-bed  of  the  aged — how  various,  how 
opposed  in  its  experiences  bodily  and  mental ! — tlie  scene 
sometimes  of  tranquil  decline  and  painless  dissolution, 
with  the  sweet  consolations  of  faith  and  hope,  with  the 
comfortable  recollection  of  past  mercies,  resignation  to 
the  will  of  Him  who  has  been  found  ever  kind  and  gra- 
cious; sometimes  of  more  fervid  joy  and  triumphant  ex- 
pectations ;  how  often  again  disturbed  by  bodily  suffer- 
ing in  all  its  forms  ;  by  mental  agitation  not  less  mani- 
fold ;  by  contrition  and  remorse ;  by  apprehension  and 
despair ;  sometimes  by  indignation  and  defiance ;  by 
pride  and  vainglorious  confidence ;  sometimes  by  wo- 
manly regrets ;  sometimes  by  mere  disgust  and  weariness. 
He  probes  the  soul  of  the  dull  or  hardened  ;  he  terrifies 
the  obdurate ;  he  binds  up  the  broken-hearted.  He 
winds  his  way  through  the  snares  and  artifices  with 
which  the  craft  of  intellect  has  been  wont  to  fetter  or 


92  LECTUBE   V. 

benumb  the  conscience.  He  holds  up  the  lamp  of  truth 
to  eyes  which  have  been  long  shut  against  light  and 
knowledire ;  or  have  mistaken  the  false  shows  of  this 
world  for  the  genuine  reflection  of  the  brightness  of  God's 
person. 

But  leaving  the  bedside  of  the  djing,  he  betakes 
himself  next  moment  to  the  seat  of  the  teacher  in  the 
school.  Here  stands  before  him  the  rude  material  of 
which  Cnrist's  Church  of  the  future  is  to  be  formed, 
in  its  simplicity  and  innocence,  its  fervour  and  im- 
petuosity, its  zeal  and  courage,  untried  by  temptation, 
untempered  by  suffering,  unknown  to  itself,  its  destiny 
hidden  in  the  bosom  of  a  watchful  Providence  ;  a  new 
generation,  which  shall  be  set  for  the  rising  and  the 
falling  of  many  in  Christendom  ;  of  whom  we  can  only 
say,  in  the  profound  darkness  of  the  future,  that  as- 
suredly it  has  a  marked  and  definite  part  to  play  in  the 
course  of  man's  spiritual  history,  whether  for  good  or  for 
evil ;  that  it  is  already  an  instrument  in  God's  hand  for 
the  furtherance  of  his  deep  designs,  to  speed  onwards  in 
its  appointed  path  the  course  of  His  adorable  dispen- 
sations. 

The  minister  stands  for  the  moment  between  the  two 
generations,  at  the  middle  point  of  the  present ;  and  full 
of  faith  and  confidence  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  divine 
promises,  believes  and  trusts  that  both  work  together  to 
a  common  end ;  and  marvels  at  the  power  of  the 
Ahnighty,  which  on  the  one  hand  makes  itself  witnesses 
in  the  seared  heart  and  manifold  experiences  of  age,  on 


JOHN   THE   BAPTIST.  93 

the  other  establishes  His  truth  by  the  mouths  of  babes 
and  suckhngs. 

In  the  aged  Zach arias  and  the  child  John  we  have 
beheld  the  contrast  between  two  dispensations  ;  the  one 
fading  away  and  about  to  perish,  the  other  coming  forth 
into  the  world  in  new  life  and  freshness.  But  of  the 
early  career  of  this  representative  child  very  little  is  re- 
corded ;  nor  more  of  his  training  for  his  holy  mission  ; 
but  that  his  mother  dedicated  him  from  his  birth  to  the 
service  of  God,  according  to  the  usages  of  her  country- 
men, and  that  presently,  as  the  text  says,  '  the  child  grew 
and  waxed  strong  in  sj^irit,  and  was  in  the  deserts ' — 
was  removed  from  the  ordinary  abodes  and  habits  of  men 
to  a  rude  solitude — and  there  continued  mider  God's 
teaching  for  about  thirty  years,  ^  till  the  day  of  his  shew- 
ing imto  Israel.'  We  are  led  to  infer  that  the  solitude 
of  a  hermit  in  the  wilderness — separated  from  the  world, 
seclusion  from  its  glare  and  noise,  unacquaintancewith  its 
vicious  ways  and  fashions,  with  its  common  training  and 
the  prejudices  thence  derived — ^was  necessary  for  receiving 
the  fulness  of  divine  inspiration  ;  that  a  vessel  of  so  much 
grace  must  be  kept  from  the  first  holy  and  nndefiled ; 
that  one  who  was  set  to  teach  God's  word  with  pe- 
culiar energy  and  power  must  receive  it  direct  from 
Him;  not  manipulated  by  hximan  hands,  not  inter- 
preted by  human  glosses,  not  filtered  through  human 
channels. 

And  so  it  was  also  with  one  who  was  greater  than 
John  the  Baptist,  with  one  who  was  not  the  least,  but 


9i  LECTURE   V. 

among  the  first  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  so  it  was  with 
Sanl  the  convert  of  Jesus  Christ ;  who  when  it  pleased 
God  to  '  reveal  His  Son  '  in  him,  that  he  '  might  preach 
Him  among  the  Heathen,'  immediately  *  conferred  not 
with  flesh  and  blood  ;'  ^  neither  did  he  '  go  up  to  Jerusa- 
lem to  them  which  were  apostles '  before  him  ;  but  he 
went  into  Arabia ;  and  from  thence  to  Damascus,  and 
Syria,  and  Cilicia,  avoiding  the  conversation  of  the 
brethren  in  the  churches,  so  as  to  be  unknown  by 
face  to  the  disciples  in  Judea : — doubtless  that  none 
might  have  the  first  teaching  and  training  of  this  ves- 
sel of  grace  but  God  Himself  through  the  operation  of 
the  Holy  Spirit. 

And  so — to  apply  the  parallel  to  the  argument  before 
us — so  when  God  was  about  to  cast  away,  as  if  disap- 
pointed and  repenting  of  His  work,  the  instruments  of 
His  grace  whom,  next  after  the  Jews,  He  had  chosen  for 
the  buikhng  of  His  Church  and  the  diffusion  of  His 
truth  ;  when  He  was  about  to  humble  and  cast  down  the 
Greek  and  Eoman  Churches  which  had  been  called  out 
from  among  the  heathen  of  the  Empire,  and  which  had 
grown  and  prospered  under  His  hand  till  they  compre- 
hended the  Empire  itself;  He  prepared  long  in  secret 
and  in  solitude  the  people,  the  human  instruments  of  His 
policy,  the  human  vessels  of  His  grace,  by  whom  He 
purposed  to  replace  them. 

The  Greeks  and  Eomans,  the  bright  and  polished 
children  of  the  South,  had  failed  to  fulfil  the  task  im- 

^  Galat.  i.  16. 


THE   NOETHEEN   NATIONS.  95 

posed  upon  them.  They  had  broken  down  through  the 
infirmity  of  corruptions.  Faith,  accedted  slowly,  em- 
braced coldly,  had  prodnced  no  fruit  of  holiness  and  pu- 
rity, and  languished  in  the  sphere  of  their  effete  society. 
A  new  material  was  to  be  called  forth ;  a  new  mass  of 
ore  to  be  stamped  with  the  image  of  Christ's  revelation  ; 
the  nations  of  tlie  I^orth — Goths  and  Franks,  Burgun- 
dians  and  Saxons — were  to  be  thrust  into  the  place  of 
which  they  had  shown  themselves  unworthy ;  were  to  sit 
upon  their  thrones,  to  inherit  their  patrimony,  to  suc- 
ceed to  their  spiritual  privileges.  And  these  nations 
must  have  their  long  and  patient  training  for  the  task  so 
graciously  imposed  upon  them ;  these  children  of  the 
new  era  must  be  separated  and  kept  apart  in  holy  dedi- 
cation to  their  divine  calling,  howbeit  themselves  uncon- 
scious of  their  mission.  They,  too,  like  the  child  John, 
shall  wax  great  and  strong  in  spirit,  and  continue  in 
the  deserts  until  the  day  of  their  showing  unto  Chris- 
tendom. 

From  these  nations  of  the  Korth  we  are  for  the  most 
part  ourselves  descended.  Their  blood  flows  in  our 
veins  :  their  character  is  impressed  upon  our  minds :  our 
language  speaks  to  us  of  them  ;  our  laws  represent  to  us 
their  notions  of  right  and  justice ;  our  worship  is  founded 
on  the  conceptions  they  embraced  of  deity  and  spirit,  of 
the  divine  calling  of  men  and  of  w^omen.  Through  many 
an  age  these  ideas  have  been  working  in  them  and  their 
descendants,  gathering  around  us  fold  upon  fold  of  in- 
ward and  outward  knowledge ;  utilizing  spiritual  expe- 


96  LECTUKE   V. 

riences;  applying  foreign  materials;  assimilating  the 
best  elements  of  religious  consciousness  from  all  sides  ; 
fructifying  in  tlie  bosom  of  time,  and  bringing  fortli  in 
their  season  new  and  vigorous  offshoots  of  the  truth  once 
implanted  in  them.  Through  these  Northern  peoples, 
these  barbarians,  as  thej  have  so  often  been  called,  we 
have  derived  our  Christianity:  for  they  took  to  them- 
selves and  applied  to  their  own  spiritual  necessities  the 
truth  they  found  dishonoured  or  forgotten  in  the  Empire, 
clasping  it  with  ferv^our  to  their  hearts,  and  making  it 
their  own  by  right  of  derelict ;  moulding  it,  perchance, 
with  the  pressure  of  their  own  right  hand  ;  colouring 
it,  it  may  be,  with  the  hues  of  their  own  spiritual  imag- 
ination. 

About  the  primitive  history  of  human  progress  there 
are  two  conflicting  opinions :  the  solution  of  the  question 
awaits,  perhaps,  another  generation.  Let  us  not  be  too 
hasty  to  dogmatize  about  it.  The  ancients  generally  be- 
lieved in  an  original  creation  of  man  in  a  state  approach- 
ing to  moral  perfection ;  a  state  from  which  he  declined 
by  regular  steps,  from  a  golden  age  to  a  silver,  a  brazen, 
and  an  iron : — a  pleasing  and  fanciful  illustration  of  a 
deep  thought,  of  the  regrets  and  remorse  of  a  self-accus- 
ing conscience.  But  this  sense  of  guilt,  this  tone  of  self- 
accusation,  however  suited  to  the  simple  unsophisticated 
feelings  of  mankind,  was  unpalatable  to  the  pride  of  the 
philosophers.  The  schools  of  Greece  and  Kome  discarded 
the  tradition  of  the  ancients,  as  beneath  the  dignity  of 
man,  and  assumed  as  the  discoveiy  of  moral  self-inquiry, 


JEWISH   SCKIPTURE3    AND   MODEK^q-   PHILOSOPHY.         97 

that  man  or  the  contrary  was  first  created,  or  first 
sprang,  perchance,  spontaneously,  in  form  and  faculties 
most  rude  and  degraded,  and,  after  ages  of  grovelling 
barbarism,  worked  his  own  way  upwards,  by  his  own  ef- 
forts, or  with  the  aid,  it  may  be,  of  a  kindly  fortune, 
from  a  state  akin  to  the  lower  animals  to  the  full  nobili- 
ty of  kings  and  sages. 

It  has  been  held,  however,  for  three  thousand  years 
at  least,  by  that  portion  of  mankind  which  has  resorted 
to  the  Jewish  Scriptures  for  the  first  and  truest  records 
of  primitive  history,  that  the  former  of  these  opinions 
comes  nearest  to  the  fact :  that  man  has  from  the  first 
been  placed  on  earth  with  a  full  capacity  for  the  highest 
civilization,  for  the  noblest  ideas,  the  truest  intellectual 
and  moral  culture :  that  his  spiritual  conceptions,  more 
especially,  have  alighted  upon  him  from  an  original  in- 
spiration, a  teaching  imparted  to  him  at  his  birth,  or  to- 
gether with  his  first  social  development. 

Again,  the  philosophers  of  modern  times,  true  to  their 
natural  filiation  from  the  sceptics  of  Greece  and  Home, 
seek  to  divest  us  of  all  the  reverence  we  entertain  for 
the  spiritual  teaching  of  our  forefathers,  by  assuring  us 
that  we,  the  men  of  this  age  and  generation,  are  real- 
ly the  crown  of  human  growth  and  progress :  that  all 
that  went  before  us  were  much  inferior  to  us ;  squalid 
and  savage  men — monkeys,  it  may  be,  or  molluscs :  that 
God  created  man — if  He  did  indeed  create  him — ^little  if 
at  all  better  than  the  brutes  ;  and  that  all  our  advance, 
from  first  to  last,  is  due  to  chance  or  fate,  or  the  irrever- 
7 


98  LECTUEE   V. 

sible  law  of  progress,  by  tlie  natural  disappearance  of  the 
lowest  and  survival  of  the  highest  organizations.  And 
they  can  go,  no  donbt,  a  step  beyond  their  predecessors 
in  such-like  speculations ;  for  they  make  their  appeal  to 
physical  phenomena — scanty  and  meagre,  I  may  be  al- 
lowed to  say,  as  yet,  for  the  support  of  so  tremendous  a 
theory; — a  theory,  however,  of  which  it  behoves  us  to 
speak  with  respect,  as  legitimate  in  point  of  method, 
however  little  the  apprehension  we  need  feel  regard- 
ing it. 

The  appeal  is  to  physical  science ;  and  the  answer 
must  come  from  those  who  are  skilled  in  the  mysteries 
of  the  material  world.  Such  an  answer  may  not  be 
the  only  one,  nor  the  most  sure  and  satisfactory ;  but 
at  all  events  it  may  be  fjiirly  demanded  of  those  who 
are  capable  of  rendering  it.  For  my  own  part,  I 
cannot  pretend  to  meet  the  philosophers  on  this  ground; 
nor  can  I  say  how  far  the  records  of  religion  depend 
for  their  acceptance  on  the  results  of  inquiry  into 
mere  physical  phenomena.  These  are  questions  which 
will  be  argued  to  the  full  in  the  years  that  are  before 
us;  and  God,  I  believe,  who  has  not  failed  His  Church, 
or  His  humble  seekers,  for  so  many  ages,  will  not 
suffer  their  faith  to  fail  for  lack  of  adequate  support 
in  this  or  any  other  trial  in  store  for  it. 

But  I  venture  meanwhile  to  ask  these  speculators 
to  produce  any  instance  of  spiritual  progress  among 
the  races  of  mankind,  which  can  support  their  theory 
of  gradual  advance  from    the   state   of   the  brute  or 


THE   AE^CIENT   GEEMANS.  99 

barbarian  to  that  of  Saint  or  Sage  either  of  Paganism 
or  Christianity.  Do  we  know  of  any  nation  or  kindred 
—  Greek  or  German  or  Indian  —  of  which  it  can  be 
asserted,  —  There  was  once  a  time  when  this  people 
were  as  low  in  the  scale  of  humanity  as  are  now  the 
bnshmen  of  Papua  or  'New  Holland;  but  see  how, 
step  by  step,  from  school  to  school,  from  intuition  to 
intuition,  they  evolved  a  Homer  or  a  Menu,  a  Paul  or 
a  Luther  ?  Were  the  Greeks,  the  Germans,  the  In- 
dians, for  instance,  as  far  back  as  we  can  trace  them, 
ever  destitute  of  a  spiritual  culture,  the  same  in  kind 
at  least,  not  of  course  in  degree,  as  at  the  highest  cul- 
mination of  their  history  ?  Is  not  the  evidence  as 
strong, — nay  stronger, — that  the  savages  now  existing 
around  us  are  the  degenerate  offshoots  of  civilized 
races,  as  that  the  civilized  are  the  cream  and  efflor- 
escence of  the  savage  ? 

Look  more  particularly  at  the  people  of  whom  I 
am  now  to  speak,  at  the  German  nations,  as  a  type  of 
the  Northern  races  generally ;  look  at  the  earliest  records 
we  possess  of  them,  in  their  state  of  rude  material 
deficiency,  which  we  call  their  barbarism;  when  they 
roamed  their  annual  course  from  pasture  to  pasture ; 
when  they  had  no  cities,  no  roads,  or  other  appliances 
of  what  we  denominate  civilization ;  when  they  had  not 
yet  polished  their  native  tongue  into  an  instrument  • 
of  recorded  sentiment :  —  still,  even  in  the  few  pages 
consecrated  to  their  memory  by  the  supercilious  Eomans, 
we  may  trace  already  amoug  them  the  greatest  results 


100  •  LECTUEE   T. 

of  true  moral  culture.  Tliey  have  already  acquired  a 
deep  reverential  sense  of  spiritual  tilings;  a  profound 
respect  for  the  voice  of  God  speaking  with  authority 
through  human  organs;  a  sense  of  divine  government 
and  providence;  a  conscience  active  and  inquisitive; 
suspicion  at  least  of  snifulness ;  apprehension  of  punish- 
ment; longing  for  forgiveness;  a  passion  for  sacrifice 
and  atonement.  They  are  noted  by  the  materialists 
who  observe  them  for  their  spiritual  conception  of  Deity 
as  a  Being  not  to  be  represented  by  sensuous  images, 
not  to  be  confined  within  the  precincts  of  a  material 
building ;  a  dweller  in  the  heavens  above,  or  in  the  earth 
beneath,  who  approaches  nighest  to  his  worshippers  in 
the  wide  prospect  from  the  mountain  top,  or  in  the 
deep  seclusion  of  the  forest.  They  have  attained  a 
respect  for  human  life,  and  a  sense  of  responsibility  in 
regard  to  it,  such  as  shames  the  morbid  hardhearted- 
ness  of  a  fastidious  civilization.  They  have  secured 
one  of  the  best  and  strongest  incentives  to  virtuous 
exertion,  one  of  the  surest  pledges  of  spiritual  progress, 
in  their  fine  appreciation  of  the  worth  of  the  female 
character.  Man  and  woman,  in  their  view,  are  sanctified 
by  direct  connection  with  .  the  divine,  and  by  the 
promise  of  eternal  re-union  with  *  it.  They  believe  in 
an  immortality  hereafter,  the  foundation  of  all  virtue 
and  courage  here.^ 

And  further,  speaking  of  tlie  Gothic  nations  broadly, 
we  may  trace  in  the  particulars  of  their  belief  an  ap- 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (G). 


SPIRITUAL   BELIEFS   OF   THE   GOTHIC   NATIONS.        101 

proach  to  miicli  whicli  we  trust  we  have  learned  from 
the  source  of  truth  more  directly  ourselves.  Such  are 
the  formation  of  the  world  out  of  chaos ;  the  creation 
of  man ;  his  primitive  state  of  innocence  and  happiness ; 
the  fall  of  his  godlike  nature,  which  they  ascribed  to 
his  mingling  with  the  accursed  Giants;  the  existence 
of  a  Spirit  of  Evil ;   and  of  a  Tree  of  Life. 

The  Spirit  of  Evil  has  assumed  to  them  a  form  and 
substance  in  the  person  of  the  Giants  who  have  risen 
against  God.  Odin  is  the  champion  of  God  against 
them.  Eeleased  from  the  physical  ideas  of  elemental 
disturbance  which  lay  perhaps  at  its  foundation,  this 
struggle  acquired  in  their  minds  a  moral  significance. 
It  was  transferred  from  Odin,  the  crown  and  flower  of 
man,  to  man  himself,  and  man  was  supposed  to  be 
engaged  in  an  eternal  conflict  with  the  spirit,  not  of 
physical,  but  of  moral  evil,  of  sin  and  selfishness. 
Conflict  became,  in  the  view  of  the  IS'orthern  people, 
the  appointed  condition  of  man's  existence.  The  lusts 
of  soul  and  body  were  marked  as  his  eternal  enemies. 
Hence  their  whole  career  in  life  acquired  a  warlike 
character.  Life  was  to  them  a  parable  illustrating  the 
natural  antagonism  of  sin  and  spirit.  Odin,  the  Spirit 
which  penetrates  and  enlivens  all  things,  becomes 
preeminently  the  War-God,  and  challenges  the  highest 
place  in  the  imagination  of  his  worshippers.  His 
inspiration  is  courage  and  martial  ardour.  The  brave 
who  fall  in  battle  revive  under  his  dispensation ;    he 


102  LECTURE   Y. 

receives  tliem  from  bis  attendant  spirits,  and  places 
them  in  the  paradise  of  the  JSTortb. 

In  tins  doctrine,  viewed  in  its  material  and  carnal 
aspects,  there  was  an  anticipation  of  tlic  teaching  of  the 
Jewish  Scriptures,  which  proclaimed  as  with  the  voice 
of  the  trumpet  and  clarion,  '  The  Lord  is  a  man  of  war.' 
'  The  Lord  shall  go  forth  as  a  mighty  man ;  he  shall 
stir  np  jealousy  like  a  man  of  war.'  ^  But  taken 
spiritually,  as  it  would  be  handled  and  moulded  by 
Christian  missionaries,  it  might  prepare  the  mind  of 
the  believer  for  the  Christian  revelation  of  the  soul's 
warfare  with  evil.  It  might  speak  in  tones  according 
with  the  martial  imagery  of  the  Gospel :  for  the  Gospel 
too  abounds  in  figures  of  war  and  combat,  and  speaks 
of  the  sword  of  faith,  and  the  lielmet  of  salvation,  and 
the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked  one,  and  the  whole  armour 
of  God. 

But  the  special  doctrine  of  the  Christian  Scriptures 
is  approached  at  least  in  the  E^orthern  mythology.  The 
Revelation  of  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Great  Sacrifice  casts 
its  shadow  before  it  in  the  traditions  of  the  Edda. 
Balder,  as  we  there  read,  the  son  of  Odin,  is  the  fairest 
and  best  of  beings ;  beloved  of  gods  and  men.  He  bears 
indeed  the  national  character  of  the  warrior ;  he  is  the 
giver  of  strength  in  combat ;  he  goes  forth  conquering 
and  to  conquer.  But  no  less  is  he  tlie  perfect  expression 
of  innocence,  holiness,  and  justice.  His  judgments  stand 
for  ever :  none  can  gainsay  them.     He  gathers  in  him- 

*  Exod.  XV.  3.     Isaiah  xlii.  13. 


THE   EDDA   AND   THE   SCEIPTIJKES.  103 

self  all  tlie  attributes  of  tlie  Deity,  various,  and  to 
human  views  conilictiug, — yet  sucli  as  God  lias  Himself 
revealed  them  to  us, — of  justice  and  mercy,  of  love  and 
anger,  of  force  and  persuasion.  But  this  being,  excel- 
lent and  godlike,  falls  at  last  by  the  craft  and  malice  of 
the  Devil.  All  nature  weeps ;  gods  and  men  weep ;  all 
weep  but  the  Devil  only  ;  and  for  the  want  of  the  tears 
of  the  Evil  One  he  cannot  return  to  bless  men  on  earth 
with  his  presence  any  more.  The  crowning  idea  of  re- 
demption through  the  God-man's  sufferings  is  thus  crip- 
pled, and  curtailed  :  it  is  postponed  to  the  future,  rele- 
gated to  some  final  dispensation ;  wlien  the  Evil  Power 
Loki,  and  Death,  the  wolf-god  Fenris,  shall  be  bound  in 
Hell  for  ever,  and  the  powers  of  Heaven  shall  triumph 
in  the  glorious  consummation  of  all  things.^    ^ 

Such  are  some  of  the  points  of  analogy  between  the 
traditions  of  the  Edda  and  the  Christian  Scriptures  ; 
such  the  anticipations  which  might  seem  to  await  com- 
pletion in  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ ;  such  the  dis- 
tant guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  vouchsafed  to 
the  nations  of  the  ]N"orth.  And  they  were  not  unworthy 
for  whom  such  special  ministrations  should  be  appointed. 
Tliey  were  prepared  to  accept  and  x3rotit  by  them  by 
their  natural  docility  and  moral  tendencies,  by  their 
aptness  to  assimilate  the  lessons  of  material  and  spiritual 
culture. 

But  it  would  lead  me  far  away  from  the  train  of 
thought  and  the  language  suitable  to  this  place  and  oc- 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (H). 


lOi  LECTURE   V. 

casion,  were  I  to  trace,  however  briefly,  the  tokens  to 
which  I  liave  only  pointed,  of  this  peculiar  characteristic 
of  the  l^orthern  nations.  For  four  centuries  they  stood 
face  to  face  with  the  great  conquerors  and  civilizers  of 
the  South,  watchful  but  not  subservient ;  emulous  but 
still  jealously  independent.  Their  greatest  warriors  had 
been  trained  in  the  camps  of  their  Roman  rivals.  In 
the  arts  of  peace  the  German  was  a  skilful  imitator.  He 
built  his  towns,  he  cultivated  his  fields,  he  surrounded 
himself  with  the  appliances  of  luxury,  after  the  pattern 
learned  from  the  masters  of  human  civilization.  Even 
the  religious  ideas  of  those  before  him  he  quickly  assim- 
ilated ;  he  adapted  their  traditions  to  his  own ;  imbibed 
their  thoughts ;  sympathized  with  their  aspirations. 
When  the  time  arrived  for  the  fusion  of  the  two  races, 
the  traveller  standing  on  the  banks  of  their  frontier 
rivers,  might  ask  himself,  viewing  the  monuments  of 
civil  life  on  either  hand  around  him,  which  side  was  the 
Roman  and  w^hich  the  German. 

If  then  we  admire  in  any  work  of  man's  hand  the 
evidence  of  a  cunning  design,  the  tokens  of  a  thoughtful 
foresight ;  if  we  worship  reverently  the  hand  of  the  Di- 
vine artificer  in  the  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  in  the 
outward  frame  of  nature:  in  the  limbs  of  animals;  in 
the  foliage  of  trees  ;  in  the  processes  of  life  and  death ; 
in  the  structure  of  the  universe  ; — not  less  should  we  re- 
mark and  admire  divine  contrivance  in  the  moulding  of 
a  national  character  for  the  great  religious  purpose  to 
which  it  is  destined  to  be  applied.     For  ages  this  pur- 


CONVERSION   OF   THE   NOETHEEN   NATIONS.  105 

pose  lias  seemed  to  slumber  in  the  breast  of  tlie  All-dis- 
poser ;  for  ages  tbe  races  of  tlie  JSTortli — the  barbarians 
as  we  call  them,  as  the  Romans  called  them  slightingly 
— roamed  their  deserts  unnoticed  by  the  trained  and  civ- 
ilized among  men.  For  ages  no  sage  or  seer  of  Greece 
or  Rome,  of  Egypt  or  Palestine,  had  dreamed  of  the 
power  latent  in  those  savage  regions,  of  the  dispensation 
slumbering  in  those  untutored  bosoms  ;  for  the  time  had 
not  yet  arrived  for  putting  them  to  their  proper  use. 
The  Greek  and  Roman  were  still  on  their  trial ;  the  Jew 
was  still  on  his  trial,  unto  whom  were  still  committed 
the  oracles  of  God.  But  God  Himself  was  still  silently 
watching  over  them  ;  and  so  they  grew  and  waxed  strong 
in  spirit,  and  were  in  the  deserts  till  the  day  of  their 
showing  to  the  Empire. 

That  day,  speaking  broadly,  came  with  great  sudden- 
ness, and  that  manifestation  might  seem  at  once  com- 
plete. The  conquest  of  the  Empire  and  the  conversion 
of  the  JSTorthern  races,  might  be  regarded,  in  a  general 
view,  as  one  great  historical  event.  Looking  more 
closely,  indeed,  we  see  that,  like  all  wide-reaching  revo- 
lutions, these  issues  were  in  fact  slow  and  gradual,  the 
providential  development  of  many  causes  and  myriads 
of  interwoven  incidents.  The  intercourse  of  the  rival 
races  for  four  centuries  along  two  thousand  miles  of 
frontier  had  been  varied,  and  their  action  upon  one  an- 
other reciprocal.  The  Empire,  for  instance,  had  received 
the  importation  of  many  thousands  of  captives  from  the 
Xorth,  and  to  the  poor  captive,  the  desolate  stranger,  the 


106  LECTURE    V. 

tormented  slave,  tlie  Gospel  and  the  Church,  embosomed 
in  the  Empire,  had  spoken  with  force  and  conviction. 
To  him  Jesns  Christ  had  been  father  and  mother,  and 
wife  and  lands.  The  ISTorth  again  had  invited  an  immi- 
gration of  crowds  of  persecuted  believers,  fugitives  from 
the  chain  and  the  axe,  and  the  lions  of  the  amphitheatre. 
Jesus  Christ  had  guided  their  steps  and  lightened  the 
burden  of  their  pilgrimage.  Rome,  once  more,  had  sur- 
rounded herself  with  legions  of  foreign  auxiliaries,  re- 
cruited from  the  Scythians  and  the  Germans ;  and 
among  them  holy  men  had  laboured,  and  converted  them 
into  an  army  of  Christ.  And  from  these  in  turn  had 
gone  forth  missionaries  of  the  Faith,  such  as  Ulfilas,  the 
wolf-born,  become  the  apostle  of  the  barbarians,  the 
translator  of  the  Scriptures  into  the  Gothic  tongue ; — the 
Moses,  as  he  was  boldly  designated,  of  the  Goths— who 
had  descended  "from  the  mystic  presence  in  the  holy  place, 
from  the  metropolitan  temple  of  the  Holy  Wisdom  of 
God,  bearing  the  written  tidings  of  salvation  to  his  ad- 
miring and  expecting  countrymen.^ 

Thus  the  nations  of  the  ISTorth  were  gradually  pre- 
pared for  their  complete  and  final  conversion.  The 
Lord  had  been  'preached  to  them  that  were  afar  off;' 
'the  inhabitants  of  the  isles  had  been  astonished  at 
Him."  'There  was  no  speech  or  language'  where  the 
voice  of  the  preacher  had  not  been  heard ;  '  his  line  was 
gone  forth  throughout  the  earth,  and  his  words  to  the 
end  of  the  world.'  ^     The  Church  of  the  Empire,  in  its 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (I).         ^  Ezek.  xxvii.  35.        '  Ps.  xix.  4. 


ST.    JEEOMES   FERVID   ANTICIPATIONS.  107 

own  alarms  and  anxieties,  was  looking  for  tlie  result ; 
and  tlie  sanguine  soul  of  Jerome,  from  his  retreat  in 
BetMeliem,  cast  a  raptured  glance  on  the  triumphant 
progress  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  glorious  tokens  of  the 
future  about  to  be  revealed.  *  Who  would  believe  it ' — 
he  exclaims  :  '  that  the  barbarous  Gothic  tongue  should 
seek  the  truth  of  the  Hebrew;  that  while  the  Greek  is 
slumbering  or  wrangling,  the  German  should  explore  the 
sayings  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ?  Of  a  truth  I  know  that 
God  is  no  respecter  of  persons ;  but  that  in  every  nation 
he  that  feareth  God  and  worketh  righteousness  is  accept- 
ed of  Him.  Lo !  the  hands  once  hardened  by  the  sword- 
hilt,  fingers  once  fitted  to  the  bowstring,  have  turned  to 
the  stylus  and  the  pen  ;  the  fierce  heart  of  the  warrior  is 
softened  to  Christian  mildness ;  and  now  we  see  fulfilled 
the  prophecy  of  Isaiah,  "  They  shall  beat  their  swords 
into  ploughshares,  and  their  spears  into  pruning  hooks  : 
nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither 
shall  they  learn  war  any  more." '  ^ 

And  again,  with  the  same  exulting  confidence,  '  Lo  ! 
the  Armenian  lays  down  his  quiver ;  the  Huns  are  learn- 
ing the  Psalter;  the  frosts  of  Scythia  glow  with  the 
warmth  of  faith ;  the  ruddy  armies  of  the  Goths  bear 
about  with  them  the  tabernacles  of  the  Church ;  and 
therefore,  perhaps,  do  they  fight  with  equal  fortune 
against  us,  because  equally  with  us  they  trust  in  the 
religion  of  Christ.'  ^ 

Such  were  the  vows  and  aspirations  of  the  Christians, 

^  Isaiah  ii.  4.  -  Notes  and  Illustrations  (J). 


108  LECTUEE  V. 

while  tlie  North  was  blackening  with  all  its  clouds  :  one- 
half  of  them  did  the  Spirit  of  God  accept  and  ratify,  the 
other  He  dispersed  in  empty  air.  But  of  these  various 
issues — the  despair,  the  agony,  and  the  triumph — I  shall 
speak  to  you  at  another  meeting. 


LECTUEE    YI. 

CONVERSION  OF  THE  NORTHERN  NATIONS. 

Matt.  vii.  29. 

For  He  taugJit  them  as  one  Tiamng  autJiority. 

The  autlioritj  which  marked  our  blessed  Lord's 
teaching  was  purely  moral  and  spiritual.  Appearing  as 
a  mere  man  among  men  He  assumed,  we  may  believe, 
no  personal  recommendations,  no  comeliness  or  majesty, 
or  force  of  eloquence  or  commanding  power,  to  strike 
deep  and  sudden  impression  upon  His  hearers.  From 
time  to  time,  indeed,  He  put  forth  signs  and  wonders, 
performing  miraculous  cures  and  other  marvellous  works 
by  hand  or  by  word  only ;  but  we  are  not  Ijid  remark 
the  appearance  of  authority  which  these  actions  bore  : 
their  power  spoke  for  itself.  But  it  was  when  He 
taught,  and  moreover  when  He  taught  in  His  mildest 
and  most  loving  tones — when  He  gave  His  lessons  of 
mercy  and  charity  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount — when 
He  divested  Himself  most  completely  of  all  ensigns  of 
command  and  Divine  power — that  His  figure.  His  tones, 
His  gestures,  the  circumstances  amid  which  He  spoke 
and  the  character  of  His  teaching,  conveyed  most  impres- 


110  LECTURE   VI. 

sivelj  to  His  liearers  tlie  tokens  of  authority.  Sitting 
on  the  green  hill-side,  ministered  nnto  by  twelve  humble 
companions,  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  curious  and 
attentive  listeners — of  men  who  had  left  the  courts  of 
the  city,  the  imperious  ordinances  of  the  Scribes  and  the 
Pharisees,  the  carnal  regulations  of  the  Temple,  and  the 
commands  of  rulers  temporal  and  spiritual — He  delivered 
simple  lessons  of  love  and  holiness,  with  a  force  of  reason- 
ing, an  assurance  of  truth,  which  seemed  at  once  to  seal 
them  with  the  sanction  of  God  Himself. 

The  speaker  has  ceased  to  speak  ;  the  words  remain. 
The  teacher  has  returned  to  heaven,  from  whence  He 
came  ;  the  lesson  survives,  inscribed  in  the  pages  of  the 
volume  which  He  has  bequeathed  to  mankind  as  His 
precious  legacy,  stored  up  in  the  living  traditions  of  a 
church  which  He  has  founded  to  execute  and  administrate 
His  will — deeply  graven  in  the  hearts  of  the  disciples 
whom  from  age  to  age  have  successively  learned,  and 
never  failed  to  register  and  transmit  them.  Whatever 
be  the  truest  and  surest  means  He  has  provided  for  the 
safe  keeping  of  His  lessons  of  Truth — whether  the  Book 
or  the  Church  or  the  conscience  of  man — the  lessons 
themselves  have  been  safely  treasured  up  from  that  time 
to  the  present,  and  will  remain,  we  doubt  not,  to  the  end 
of  the  world.  Men  will  still  continue,  from  age  to  age, 
to  picture  to  themselves  the  scene  once  enacted  on  the 
Mount,  w^hen  the  Man  Jesus  addressed  His  disciples, 
and  opened  His  mouth,  and  taught  them  those  simple 
lessons  of  love  and  goodness  which  at  once  struck  the 


CHRIST  TEACHES   WITH   AUTHORITY.  Ill 

hearts   and   claimed  the  veneration    of  the  multitude 
around  them. 

Never  again  has  the  Lord  Jesus  appeared  to  men  as 
He  appeared  in  that  holy  place  in  the  period  of  His 
earthly  sojourn.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  was  a  type 
df  His  personal  teaching,  such  as  can  never  be  repeated  in 
His  personal  absence  from  the  world.  Kever  again  can 
the  same  teaching  be  conveyed  with  the  same  sanctity, 
the  same  simplicity,  or  impress  men  with  the  same  sense 
of  Divine  power  and  authority.  JSTevertheless,  from  age 
to  age  the  lesson  has  been  repeated,  under  every  variety 
of  attending  circumstances,  with  every  degree  of  force 
and  persuasiveness ;  and  blessed  are  they  who,  looking 
beyond  the  outward  form  of  their  preacher,  whoever  he 
may  be,  still  see  from  age  to  age  the  holiness  of  the  les- 
son— still  recognise  its  binding  force,  its  transcendent 
authority  over  the  conscience.  From  day  to  day  Jesus 
Christ  makes  experiment  of  His  power  on  the  individual 
conscience  ;  and  some  men  He  brings  under  the  control 
of  His  teaching,  some  He  casts  away,  after  trial,  as  un- 
worthy and  irreclaimable.  If  His  teaching  fail  in  any 
one  case,  it  is  surely  from  no  lack  of  power  in  the  doc- 
trine, but  of  power  in  the  instrument  by  whom  He  suf- 
fers it  to  be  delivered.  The  instrument  may  often  be 
unworthy — a  vessel  not  of  grace  but  of  wrath  ;  and  the 
issue  of  its  teaching  may  accord  therewith.  It  may  hap- 
pen that  throughout  whole  churches  and  societies,  and  for 
ages  together,  the  teaching  of  Jesus  may  thus  be  imper- 
fectly or  impurely  conveyed,  tlie  authority  it  bears  may 


112 


LECTURE   VI. 


thus  be  sullied  or  maimed  ;  it  may  sink  in  force  and  effi- 
ciency even  below  the  teaching  of  tlie  Scribes  and  the 
Pharisees ;  it  may  sound  as  hollow  as  the  sermons  in  the 
Temple  and  the  Synagogue.  But  the  Divine  Preacher 
is  mean^vhile  watching  over  it,  and  guiding  it  from  mas- 
ter to  master,  from  revival  to  revival,  to  the  unseen  con- 
clusions laid  up  for  it  in  the  bosom  of  the  Eternal.  Jesus 
Christ  is  still,  as  ever,  about  His  Father's  business.  He 
works  with  the  materials  before  Him — with  the  human 
sonls  which  the  Father  has  put  under  His  teaching — with 
the  circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed,  the  peculiar 
trials  and  hindrances  by  which  they  are  surrounded. 
The  authority  with  which  He  teaches  them  is  manifold 
and  diverse,  making  itself  all  things  to  all  men  that  it 
may  gain  some. 

Look,  for  instance,  at  the  Church  of  Christ  as  she 
stood  in  the  face  of  the  invading  barbarians.  We  have 
seen  that  she  was  corrupt  in  practice  and  in  doctrine — 
that  she  encouraged  usages  repugnant  to  her  Lord's  sim- 
ple character — required  obedience  unreasoning  and  ser- 
vile— cherished  within  her  bosom  the  germs  of  a  careless- 
ness and  nnbelief  which  threatened  quickly  to  reduce  her 
once  more  imder  the  influences  of  spiritual  Paganism. 
Assuredly  the  Church  did  not  meet  the  E'orthern  Na- 
tions with  the  same  pure  and  holy  spirit  with  which  she 
had  confronted  the  Greeks  and  the  Pomans.  God's  arm 
was  indeed  outstretched  for  her  protection,  and  His 
Spirit  was  still  brooding  over  her,  and  maintaining  the 
foundation  of  truth  within  her :  but  the  outward  testi- 


THE  BAEBAEIANS  EEQUIRE  AUTHOKTTY.       113 

mony  of  miracles  and  of  insjDiration  had  been  long  witli- 
drawn ;  the  powers  she  wielded  were  for  the  most  part 
the  powers  of  the  earth  ;  the  authority  with  which  she 
might  seem  to  speak  was  derived  directly  from  her  tem- 
poral condition  ;  the  spirit  she  communicated  to  her 
children  was  distilled  from  the  fountain  of  Divine  teach- 
ittg  through  many  impure,  many  imperfect  channels. 
The  task  before  her  was  more  arduous,  the  crisis  of  the 
faith  might  seem  more  perilous,  than  ever  before ;  and 
how  much  weaker  her  faith,  her  spiritual  means  how 
crippled  and  enfeebled  ! 

It  was  indeed  a  period  when  the  voice  of  one  claim- 
iug  to  speak  with  authority  w^as  especially  required.  The 
barbarians  were  too  fierce  to  be  moved  by  the  accents 
of  charity — too  sanguine  and  confident  to  regard  the  ap- 
peals of  a  reproachful  conscience.  They  felt  no  sting  of 
sinfulness — they  acknowledged  no  call  to  repentance  and 
newness  of  life.  The  moral  sense  lay  as  yet  unstirred 
within  them.  Their  minds,  least  of  all,  were  trained  to 
appreciate  argument.  Like  children,  they  could  be  ar- 
rested and  guided  only  by  the  tone  of  authority ;  and,  like 
children,  to  the  tones  of  authority  they  were  disposed  in- 
stinctively to  hearken. . 

We  might  suppose,  perhaps,  that  the  natural  impulse 
of  warlike  barbarians,  emerging  from  their  native  forests, 
and  entering  on  the  inheritance  of  an  effete  civilization 
which  had  crumbled  at  their  touch,  would  be  to  sweep  it 
all  scornfully  away,  to  reject  every  lesson  of  its  teaching, 
to  extinguish  the  flicker  of  its  spiritual  life,  and  establish 


114  LECTURE   VI. 

in  its  place  the  fancies  and  traditions  of  their  own  un- 
trained imagination. 

Such  miglit  be  our  expectations  ;  but  the  result  was 
just  the  contrary.  Arrived  within  the  frontiers  of  the 
Empire,  the  strangers  became  deeply  impressed  with  the 
majesty  of  the  features  it  presented  to  them.  They  had 
been  moulded  and  prepared  in  secret  by  Providence  for 
the  part  now  thrust  upon  them.  They  were  not  brought 
suddenly  and  unexpectedly  face  to  face  with  the  religion 
of  the  world  they  had  conquered.  Christianity,  as  we 
have  seen,  had  already  tracked  them  in  their  native 
deserts, — a  missionary  Christianity — Christianity  in  her 
simplest  and  most  persuasive  guise,  as  the  faith  of  the 
earnest,  the  loving,  the  self-devoted — before  they  found 
Christianity  in  the  Empire — Christianity  refined  and 
complex,  imperious  and  pompous — Christianity  en- 
throned by  the  side  of  kings,  and  sometimes  paramount 
over  them. 

The  spiritual  impressions  thus  made  upon  the  Gothic 
races  had  been  well-timed,  if  we  may  so  express  our- 
selves, in  the  counsels  of  the  All-wise  Ordainer.  Had  it 
been  delayed  till  after  the  Conquest — had  they  occujpied 
the  Empire  while  yet  altogether  pagans — while  their  ears 
were  yet  untaught  to  hearken,  their  knees  untrained  to 
kneel, — ^they  might  have  rooted  out  Christianity  itself, 
without  giving  themselves  time  to  behold,  to  consider,  to 
respect,  and  to  approve  it.  The  overthrow  of  the  West 
by  the  Goths  would  have  been,  like  that  of  the  East  at  a 
later  era  by  the  Saracens,  the  al)olition  of  creed  and  church 


AUTHORITATIVE   ATTITUDE   OF   THE   CHUKCH.  115 

and  polity  together.  And  such,  or  nearly  such,  was  the 
extinction  of  Christianity  in  our  own  island  by  the 
Saxons,  who  of  all  the  conquering  races  of  the  JtsTorth 
were,  at  the  moment  of  their  triumph,  the  most  com- 
pletely pagans. 

But  half-informed,  partially  converted,  mistaken,  and 
ill-trained  as  they  generally  were,  the  ^Northern  nations 
had  already  learned  at  least  to  recognise  a  Divine  au- 
thority in  Christian  teaching,  which. made  them  pause, 
abashed  and  awe-struck,  at  .the  foot  of  the  rock  on  which 
Christ's  Church  was  founded.  They  paused,  like  those 
ancient  Gauls  in  the  Roman  forum,  and  admired  the 
venerable  image  of  a  spiritual  Power,  which  claimed  their 
submission  at  the  same  moment  that  it  tendered  them 
its  own.  Especially  providential  it  was  that  at  the  cri- 
sis of  these  assaults  on  the  centre  of  the  Empire,  the 
place  of  dignity  and  power  should  have  been  so  conspic- 
uously surrendered  by  the  civil  to  the  spiritual  ruler. 
Rome,  abandoned  by  her  Csesars  and  her  legions,  was 
left  to  the  counsel  and  protection  of  her  bishop  and  his 
priests  ;  to  the  shield  of  faith,  not  the  sword  of  violence ; 
to  the  care  of  God,  not  of  man.  It  was  to  Innocent,  to 
Leo,  to  the  minister  at  the  altar,  to  the  keeper  of  the 
Church  and  the  holy  mysteries,  that  the  people,  stricken 
and  dismayed,  had  been  suffered  to  betake  themselves  ; 
and  beneath  the  wing  of  their  spiritual  protectors  they 
found  security  and  shelter  when  the  hands  of  the  secular 
guardian  fell  helplessly  to  his  side.  For  between  the 
conquerors  and  the  spiritual  ruler — the  adviser,  the  com- 


116  LECTUEE   VI. 

forter  of  the  faithful — there  need  be  no  conflict  of  inter- 
ests.  The  bishops  and  the  clergy  might  go  forth,  trust- 
ing in  no  arm  of  flesh,  but  in  the  higher  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  intercede  for  the  lives  and  lands  of  their 
spiritual  subjects,  for  the  churches  consecrated  to  God, 
for  the  memorials  of  the  departed,  for  the  bones  and  rel- 
ics of  the  saints.  They  stood  erect  in  the  majesty  of 
their  ofiice,  ministers  of  God,  ambassadors  from  the  gate 
of  heaven.  They  too,  like  the  invaders  themselves,  had 
been  once  the  despised,  the  injured,  the  oppressed  of 
princes ;  they  too  had  been  the  enemies  of  Csesar ;  they 
had  become  the  conquerors  of  Rome  in  their  turn  ;  witli 
them  the  barbarian  and  the  stranger  might  sympathize, 
even  as  allies  and  brethren.  They  made  no  appeal  to 
arms  indeed — to  arms  they  had  never  appealed ;  they 
had  clashed  no  weapons  in  the  face  of  any  assailant  be- 
fore or  now — they  could  rouse  no  pride,  awaken  no 
jealousy.  The  barbarian  came  to  them  with  a  sword  and 
with  a  sj^ear  and  with  a  shield ;  but  they  came  to  him  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  only — of  Him  who  had 
never  failed  them  under  tyranny  and  persecution.  They 
appealed  to  the  spirit  within  him — to  that  imagination, 
tliat  apprehension  of  the  Divine  which  had  been  born 
within  him  in  his  native  forests — coeval  perhaps  with  the 
origin  of  his  race ;  which  had  been  roused  by  the  zeal  of 
Christian  missionaries,  and  kindled  to  a  glow  of  devotion 
by  the  flaming  tongues  of  the  Christian  Scriptures.  They 
spoke  to  him  of  the  mysteries  of  a  faith  which  they 
claimed  to  hold  with  liim  in  common — reminded  him  of 


THE   CHUKCH   COXQUEKS   ITS    CONQUEEOES.  117 

the  Captain  of  his  salvation,  the  Leader  of  the  hosts  of 
angels,  the  Yanquisher  of  Satan,  of  Him  who  had  led 
eai)tivity  captive — and  saluted  him  as  Christ's  own  sol- 
dier in  the  wars  of  God.  They  justified  to  him  his  career 
as  the  instrument  of  Providence,  sanctified  his  conquests 
with  a  Divine  title,  assigned  to  him  his  place  in  the  roll 
of  Divine  revelation.  'No  wonder  that  to  the  wondering 
eyes  of  the  barbarians  such  a  teacher  taught  with  author- 
ity— that  a  glory  seemed  to  play  about  his  head,  Divine 
music  to  breathe  from  his  countenance — that  his  words 
were  prophecies,  his  acts  were  miracles.  By  all  he  said 
and  did  in  that  mortal  crisis  we,  in  our  soberer  mood, 
may  set  a  more  legitimate  value  :  the  prophecy  and  the 
miracle  we  indeed  may  discredit,  but  let  us  not  deride 
the  simple  faith  which  heard  the  word  which  was  not 
spoken,  and  saw  the  deed  which  was  invisible.  Wonders 
there  were  which  history  records  and  which  reason  has 
attested — wonders  of  providential  dealing  to  which  the 
sceptic  may  bow,  in  which  the  Christian  may  triumph — 
wonders  of  God's  protection,  of  God's  judgment,  of  God's 
authority.  Amidst  all  the  fury  and  the  abounding  hor- 
ror of  the  barbarian  conquests,  in  the  bloody  deeds  of 
bloody  men  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,  we  still 
find  Christianity  interposed  as  a  shield  between  the 
wrath  of  the  conqueror  and  the  terrors  of  the  conquered. 
From  realm  to  realm,  from  city  to  city,  we  see  the  bishop 
marching  with  his  clergy,  singing  psalms,  addressing  in- 
vocations, arresting  the  inundation,  staying  the  plague. 
Sometimes  he  prays,  sometimes  he  adjures,  sometimes 


118  LECTUEE   YI. 

he  offers  the  example  of  holy  martyrdom.  And  so  he 
conquers  his  conquerors.  The  power  of  his  ^\^ord — the 
authority  of  his  teaching — is  attested  by  the  mercy 
shown  to  Eome  by  the  Arian  Alaric,  when  the  barbarians 
cowered  before  the  churches  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul — 
wlien  they  restored  the  sacred  vessels  to  their  rifled 
shrines,  singing  hymns  to  God  along  with  the  Roman 
worshippers — when  they  spared  the  city  for  the  memory 
of  its  martyred  saints :  again,  in  the  awe  with  which  the 
pagan  Attila  withdrew  from  the  ascent  of  the  Apennines, 
stunned  by  the  rebuke  of  the  holy  Leo,  who  w^ent  forth 
with  crosier  and  mitre  and  a  single  attendant  to  encoun- 
ter all  the  armies  of  the  Scourge  of  God.  Still  more  the 
power  of  the  faith  was  recognised,  still  more  the  author- 
ity of  its  teaching  manifested,  when  the  conquerors,  east 
and  west  and  north  and  south,  wherever  the  foundation 
of  the  Church  had  been  laid,  revered  and  cherished  the 
Divine  structure,  maintained  its  forms,  revived  its  disci- 
pline, accepted  its  traditions,  and  embraced  its  creed. 
Swept  over  by  the  tempest,  the  Church  of  Christ  rose 
triumphantly  again  ;  of  all  the  cities  and  the  races  that 
had  obeyed  her  spiritual  law,  she  lost  not  permanently 
one  disciple  ;  for  this  was  the  Lord's  will  which  sent  her, 
that  of  all  which  had  been  given  her  she  '  should  lose 
nothing,  but  should  raise  it  up  again  '  in  the  manifesta- 
tion of  His  new  dispensation.' 

Tlius  the  conquerors  entered  into  possession.     They 
gazed  more  attentively  on  the  imposing  fabric  before 

'  St.  John  vi.  39.     Notes  and  Illustrations  (K). 


THE   CITY   OF   GOD   UPON    EAETH.  119 

them ;  deeply  were  their  imaginations  impressed  with  the 
fact  of  its  vast  expansion  and  its  claim  to  universal  su- 
premacy. What  the  great  secular  Empire  of  Eome  had 
seemed  in  ages  past,  the  completion  of  a  grand  Divine 
scheme,  Providence  revealed.  Deity  enshrined  in  an 
earthly  tabernacle ;  such,  with  even  fuller  completion, 
with  clearer  lineaments,  with  power  more  unquestioned, 
with  claims  more  emphatic  and  transcendent — claims  on 
the  soul  and  the  conscience — was  the  faith  of  Christ,  the 
Church  of  Christ,  the  Empire  of  the  spiritual  Kome.  Her 
teaching  was  uniform  and  consistent ;  her  voice  went  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth ;  her  language  was  one,  her  laws 
universal.  It  was  the  voice  of  God  and  not  of  a  man — 
so  clear,  so  impressive — deep,  not  loud — convincing,  not 
compelling.  Her  eyes  glanced  from  earth  to  heaven ; 
her  ears  were  open  to  messages  from  God  Himself;  so 
keen  her  sense  of  touch,  that  every  impulse  from  on  high 
vibrated  from  the  heart  to  the  members,  every  string  and 
fibre  of  her  being  was  tuned  in  sympathy  and  unison. 
This  indeed  was  the  city  of  God  upon  earth — the  polity 
of  heaven  foreshown  in  this  scene  of  trial  and  probation 
— a  perfect  law  enshrined  in  a  perfect  temple.  For  to 
the  rude  convert  from  the  I^orth,  a  child  as  yet  in  moral 
and  spiritual  training,  the  Church  on  earth  might  seem 
already  perfect.  Her  defects,  her  vices,  were  impercep- 
tible to  his  gross  vision,  or  seemed  in  his  eyes  all  com- 
plete and  glorious  rather.  Her  exaggerated  faith,  her 
attenuated  morality,  her  carnal  ambition,  her  spiritual 
obliquities,  all  seemed  to  him,  childlike  in  laith,  child- 


120  LECTURE   YI. 

like  ill  obedience,  as  the  tokens  of  one  teacliing  with 
authority,  to  be  admired,  loved,  adored,  but  never  to  be 
questioned. 

This  triumph  of  the  Church  over  her  JSTorthern  con- 
querors was  the  greatest,  I  suppose,  of  all  her  triumphs 
— the  issue  least  to  be  expected  beforehand,  most  to  be 
admired  in  the  retrospect  of  any.  The  vicissitudes  of 
hope,  of  fear,  of  despair,  of  exultation,  w^ith  which  the 
Cliristians  themselves  regarded  the  conflict,  are  most 
interesting  and  instructive.  We,  too,  in  our  later  age, 
amidst  our  own  anxieties  and  apprehensions,  may  draw 
from  them  lessons  of  hope  and  faith  and  reverential 
submission  to  the  ways  of  Providence,  which  are  in- 
scrutable and  past  finding  out.  Let  us  cast  a  glance 
npon  them. 

Even  in  the  second  century  of  the  Faith,  while  the 
Pagan  Empire  was  still  standing  in  vigour  almost  un- 
diminished— while  she  repressed  the  Gospel  and  tram- 
pled on  the  believers  with  unshaken  confidence  in  her 
own  miwht  and  the  rio-ht  arm  of  her  deities  —  the 
Christians,  casting  about  on  all  sides  for  hope,  for 
succour,  for  deliverance,  beheld  the  breaking  of  a 
happier  dawn  in  the  flash  of  arms  beyond  the  frontier. 
To  resist  the  persecutor  themselves  was  against  their 
principles ;  the  Christians  must  endure,  suflfering  wrong- 
fully ;  they  could  but  offer  the  cheek  to  the  smiter,  and 
leave  vengeance  to  Him  to  w^hom  vengeance  belongeth. 
But  could  they  have  invoked  the  avenger  themselves 
— might  they  have  made  themselves  allies  of  the  arm 


EAKLY   CHKISTIAK   ANTICIPATIOIsS.  121 

of  flesli — were  there  not  foes  of  Eome,  enough  and 
to  spare,  for  their  deliverance,  among  the  Parthians 
east,  and  the  Moors  south,  and  north  the  Goths  and 
the  Scythians  ?  Such  was  their  first  whisper  confided 
one  to  another,  their  first  augury  of  the  impending 
catastrophe.  Presently  its  tones  wax  louder,  its  signals 
clearer,  its  aspirations  more  distinct  from  generation  to 
generation.  Kot  in  the  grave  Apology  of  TertuUian 
only,  but  in  the  popular  verses  muttered  from  street 
to  street,  we  hear  the  Goths  invoked  as  the  instruments 
of  the  Lord's  vengeance  —  as  the  weapons  of  the 
Almighty  for  the  slaughter  of  an  impious  generation 
— to  fulfil,  with  the  dire  ApoUyon  at  their  head,  the 
wrath  predicted  in  the  scroll  of  Revelations.  It  is  with 
mingled  feelings  of  alarm  and  triumph  that  the  be- 
lievers continue  to  watch  the  gathering  forces  of 
the  barbarians  before  them.  The  cloud  approaches 
nearer  and  nearer;  the  tempest  lowers  over  them 
darker  and  darker ;  the  ruin  threatened  will  be  general 
and  indiscriminate.  Then  flies  among  them  from 
mouth  to  mouth  the  awful  question:  Will  God  know 
His  own  ?  Will  He  care  to  save  His  own  in  the 
universal  catastrophe  ?  "When  He  overthrows  the 
Empire,  as  he  surely  will  overthrow  it,  will  He  keep 
His  own  Church  standing?  Will  He  choose  out  the 
sheep  from  the  goats  ?  Will  He  gather  the  wheat  into 
His  garner  ?  And  close  on  this  perplexing  afterthought 
followed  the  consciousness  of  Christian  degeneracy — 
of    the    lukewarm    faith,    the    godless    practice,    the 


122  LECTUEE   VI. 

covetousness    and    idolatry    rampant    within    Christ's 
own   fold.     The   Church   had   preached   in   vain;    she 
had  prophesied  falsely;    distrust  had  followed  on  the 
failure   of  her  prophecies.      The  glorious  vision   of  a 
new  heaven  and  a  new  earth,  whicli  she  had  proclaimed 
as  the  fruit  of  tlie  conversion  of  the  Empire,  and  the 
establishment  of  Christ's  kingdom — where  was  it  ?     Did 
the  advent  of  His  reign  of  righteousness  appear  any  the 
nearer?     A  new  solution   oifered   itself,  and  men  in 
their  agony  clutched  eagerly  at  it.     The  world,  they 
said,   was   in   the    throes   of   mortal    dissolution :    the 
End   was   at  hand!      Civil  wars   and   foreign   wars — 
plagues   and    earthquakes  —  the    impending    onset   of 
the  barbarians ; — these  were  the  signs    of   the  End  ! 
Already  in  the  third  century  Cyprian  stands  appalled 
before  the  wrathful    faces    of   the   Germans    looming 
obscurely  in  the   distance.      From    day  to   day   their 
figures  broaden   on   the  horizon.      They  advance  into 
the    foreground.      They    occupy    the   whole    field    of 
vision.      They  thrust  themselves  bodily  upon  us,  and 
threaten  to  extrude  or  annihilate  us.     They  swell  into 
frightful  proportions,  like  the  visions  of  a  sick  man's 
dream — like  the  breast  of  the  mighty  monster  of  the 
rail,  as  it  bears  down  boldly  upon   us,  dilating  with 
every  pulsation! 

When  Chrysostom,  from  the  metropolitan  throne  of 
Constantinople,  belield  the  slaughter  of  a  Caesar  in  the 
gloom  of  a  great  defeat,  and  traced  the  progress  of  the 
destroyer  by  smoke  and  flame  almost  to  the  walls  of 


CHEISTIAN   DESPAIK   AT   THE   FALL   OF   KOME.  r26 

the  capital,  lie  hailed  it  as  a  sign  of  the  General 
Consummation.  He  remembered  the  missions  he  had 
sent  himself  to  the  land  of  the  invaders.  The  Gospel, 
he  declared,  heed  heen  preached  to  the  ends  of  the  world ; 
the  Lord's  word  was  accomplished ;  four  ages  had 
elapsed  since  the  birth  of  the  Saviour;  an  ancient 
augury  was  fulfilled.  Surely  the  End  was  at  hand ! — 
Jerome  was  alone  in  his  cavern  in  the  distance ;  but  to 
him  the  rumour  of  these  assaults  was  carried.  He  too 
believed  that  the  World  was  perishing.  '  Everywhere,' 
he  exclaims,  '  is  there  sighing  and  mourning  —  the 
slaughter  of  the  saints,  the  defilement  of  God's  holy 
ones.  Yet  still  our  stiff  necks  are  not  bent ;  we  repent 
not ;  we  believe  not.  Thi'ough  our  vices  the  barbarians 
are  strong  ;  for  our  sins  our  armies  are  routed  and  flee  ! 
O  God !  the  heathen  have  come  into  Thine  inheritance  • 
Thy  holy  temple  have  they  defiled,  and  made  Jerusalem 
a  heap  of  stones.  The  dead  bodies  of  Thy  servants 
have  they  given  to  be  meat  unto  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
and  the  flesh  of  Thy  saints  unto  the  beasts  of  the  land.' 
He  was  engaged  on  the  exposition  of  Ezekiel  when  the 
rumour  reached  him  of  the  first  attack  on  Eome,  and 
the  slaughter  of  many  of  his  own  friends.  Day  and 
night  did  he  sigh  for  the  sufferings  of  his  Christian 
brethren,  and  tremble  between  hope  and  fear.  When 
at  last  the  capture  and  sacking  were  announced,  he 
shrieked  aloud,  '  The  light  of  the  world  is  finally 
extinguished ;  the  head  of  the  Empire  is  stricken  down  ; 
the  world  has  perished  in    the   City ! '     He  groaned 


12 J:  LECTURE    VI. 

in  the  accents  of  the  psahn  of  penitence :  '  My  wicked- 
nesses are  gone  over  niy  head,  and  are.  like  a  sore 
burden,  too  heavy  for  me  to  bear.  Lord,  thon  knowest 
my  desire,  and  my  groaning  is  not  hid  from  Thee.' ' 
From  Ezekiel,  again,  the  prophet  of  destruction,  does 
Ambrose  realize  the  completion  of  God's  last  designs. 
'  We  are  standing,'  he  exclaims,  '  by  the  death-bed  of 
mankind.  Famine  is  mankind's  sickness;  plague  is 
mankind's  sickness;  persecution  and  the  sword  are 
mortal  sickness.  We  are  gazing  on  the  sunset  of  the 
world  !''^ 

Yet  amidst  these  gloomy  anticipations  faith  still  sur- 
vived— trust  in  God's  truth  and  justice  survived.  There 
was  deep  sense  of  sin  and  wrath,  and  fear  of  a  righteous 
condemnation.  Then  came  repentance  and  conversion. 
And  these  w^ere  followed,  through  God's  mercy,  by  a 
revival  of  hope,  and  confidence  unto  the  end.  Augus- 
tine, Orosius,  Salvian — a  new  school  of  Christian  apolo- 
gists— undertake  the  pious  task  of  vindicating  God's 
providence  ;  of  explaining  His  judgments  ;  of  asserting 
the  further  purpose  of  His  government,  and  pointing 
with  calm  satisfaction  to  its  progress  in  the  future.  In 
the  victorious  Goths  they  beheld  the  seed  of  a  new  race 
of  believers ;  old  names  and  forms  they  are  willing  to 
discard,  as  no  more  instinct  with  spiritual  vigour ;  they 
can  trace  the  hand  of  God  still  sustaining,  guarding, 
cherishing,  producing ;  life  springing  from  the  tomb, 
and  warmth  from  cold  obstruction.     Even  the  fall  of  the 

^  Psalm  xxxviii.  4.  ■"  Notes  and  Illustrations  (L). 


THE   CITY   WAS   NOT   THE   WOELD.  125 

great  Komaii  Empire,  the  kingdom  once  of  devils,  since 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  of  His  Christ — the  world-wide 
polity  which  l3rought  the  name  of  Jesus  and  the  knowl- 
edge of  His  redemption  home  to  all  the  civilized  of 
men — even  the  fall  of  this  all-glorious  fabric,  after  its 
reign  of  majesty  and  power,  shakes  not  their  constant 
mind.  They  see  in  it  only  one  forward  step  in  the 
eternal  march  of  Providence.  There  is  more  beyond : 
revolution  on  revolution,  kingdom  on  kingdom,  like  Alp 
on  Alp  !  ]^ew  forms,  strange  faces,  are  rising  above  the 
horizon,  and  filling,  like  the  clouds  around  the  expected 
sun,  the  vault  of  the  eastern  sky.  God  is  among  them  ; 
God  has  made  them  and  gathered  them.  Turn  to  them, 
and  adore  Him  in  them  ! 

Such  is  the  pertinacity  of  a  true  Christian  faith ;  such 
the  sanguine  augury  of  those  who  have  taken  Christ 
effectually  into  their  hearts  ;  such  the  unquenchable  hope 
of  the  resolved  believer.  The  barbarians,  he  is  con- 
vinced, are  destined,  in  God's  secret  providence,  to  be- 
come themselves  God's  people ;  to  receive  His  covenant ; 
to  bear  His  cross  with  fresher  faith,  with  humbler  feel- 
ings, more  pious  and  devout,  more  obedient,  more 
thankful  for  past  mercies,  more  sensible  of  His  presence 
and  protection,  more  effective  in  teaching  and  example ; 
to  raise  man  upon  earth  more  nearly  to  the  image  of  the 
Divine  Being  in  heaven.  After  all,  he  argues,  why 
bind  the  Lord  and  Euler  of  the  Universe  to  one  city,  to 
one  nation,  and  one  polity  ?  What  is  Eome  to  Him,  or 
He  to  Kome  ?     The  heaven  is  His  throne,  and  the  earth 


126  LECTURE   VI. 

His  footstool !  He  shall  found  His  Cliiircli  wheresoever 
it  pleaseth  Him.  Shall  not  the  potter  break  the  vessel 
himself  has  made  ?  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  world 
do  right  ?  The  old  man  is  dead,  and  laid  out  for  burial : 
Behold  the  new  man  created  unto  God,  thoroughly  fur- 
nished unto  good  works !  No  !  the  World  was  not 
perishing  !  Ko  !  the  End  was  not  yet !  'No  !  the  City 
was  not  the  World  !  ^ 

How  natural  and  fitthig  is  this  view  of  Providence 
in  the  mind  of  the  faithful  disciple !  He  has  one  con- 
viction, one  fixed  idea — that  his  Master's  Church  is 
founded  on  a  rock ;  nor  earth,  nor  hell  can  prevail 
against  it.  No  storm  can  overthrow  it,  no  ruin  can 
annihilate  it.  Eevive  and  rise  again  it  must  after  .every 
disaster.  In  vain  do  the  Heathen  rage ;  in  vain  unbelief, 
in  vain  blasphemy ;  in  vain  all  the  powers  of  guile  or 
violence,  to  undo  what  God  has  once  ordained  for  ever. 
We  know  not  wdiat  defects  it  may  admit  of ;  wdiat  fail- 
ures it  may  incur  ;  but  blots  only  can  they  be,  shadow^s, 
blemishes ;  the  substance  of  the  Church  eternal  survives 
through  all  changes.  She  rides  out  every  storm,  holds 
onward  over  every  billow ;  for  heaven  is  her  port,  and 
her  pilot  the  All-wise  and  the  Almighty  ! 

I  have  read  in  the  records  of  our  Arctic  discoveries, 
how  during  the  long  wrecks  of  the  outward  voyage — 
while  the  crew,  with  little  occupation  in  hand,  were 
divided  between  regrets  for  the  homes  they  were  leaving, 
and  interest  in  the  strange  objects  to  which  they  were 

^  Xotes  and  Illustrations  (M). 


HOPEFULNESS    OF    THE    BELIEVER.  12 Y 

advancing — it  was  observed  that,  according  to  tlie  com- 
plexion and  temperament  of  each,  they  would  fix  them- 
selves abaft  or  forward ; — the  one  class,  wistful  and 
melancholy,  glancing  backward  on  the  receding  waters ; 
the  other,  sanguine  and  alert,  gazing  with  unblenched 
cheek  on  the  gulfs  before  them,  and  scanning  with  ardent 
gaze  every  opening  of  new  incidents  and  features.  Hope 
was  at  the  prow ;  at  the  stern  were  listlessness  and 
despondency. 

Such  a  voyage  and  such  a  crew  were  no  unfit  emblem 
of  mortality  bound  on  its  venture  of  discovery  to  the 
other  world. 

The  eye  of  the  heathen  and  the  philosopher  is  ever 
looking  backward.  For  them  the  future  has  no  interest. 
The  one  sees  in  the  Past  his  fancied  ideal  of  the  good 
and  beautiful,  as  of  blessings  gone  and  never  to  re- 
turn ;  as  of  youth,  vigour  and  enjoyment,  gliding  irre- 
coverably into  age  and  decrepitude:  the  other  scans 
again  and  again  the  lore  of  ancient  wisdom,  combines 
and  recombines  it,  fights  over  again  the  word-combats 
of  old,  more  languidly  than  before,  and  smiles  at  his 
ow^n  illusions  in  seeking  to  elicit  new  truths  from  the 
elements  of  exhausted  speculation.  Does  he  venture  to 
imagine,  proud  and  daring  in  his  auguries,  that  man  is 
still  advancing  in  his  moral  progress — that  the  world  is 
getting  better  or  wiser  as  it  grows  older  ?  Yet  for  what 
purpose  ?  to  what  end  is  all  this  waste  of  moral  power, 
which  has  done  so  little  for  us  here,  and  has  no  object 
hereafter  ?     So  the  Pagan  and  the  Philosopher  sit  mood- 


128  LECTUEE   YI. 

ily  at  the  stern,  and  cast  reverted  glances  on  the  Yestiges 
of  Creation,  and  the  Antiquity  of  Man. 

But  the  believer  plants  himself  at  the  prow.  The 
waters  open  before  him.  He  cleaves  the  present,  and 
clutches  at  the  future ;  wings  grow  to  his  ancles  ;  powxr 
issues  from  his  hands.  He  holds  on  to  an  untracked 
shore ;  fills  in  his  chart  with  unwavering  lines  :  fresh  in 
hope,  buoyant  in  imagination,  he  usurps  the  land  of  his 
cherished  desire,  the  land  of  promise,  the  land  of  milk 
and  honey,  the  home  and  habitation  of  his  Lord  !  In 
every  wave  around  him,  in  every  shred  of  spray  foamed 
from  the  billows,  he  marks  an  incident  of  providential 
guidance,  all  tending  to  one  mighty  purpose,  to  an  eter- 
nal and  ineflable  fulfilment.  He  too  has  had  his  fears 
and  disappointments :  he  too  is  human,  and  partakes  of 
the  cup  of  humanity,  the  cup  of  troubles  and  perplex- 
ities :  but  Faith,  Hope,  and  Love  have  raised  him  above 
his  distresses ;  he  has  dashed  them  lightly  from  his  spirit, 
as  he  shakes  the  moisture  from  his  hair. 

This  hopefulness,  so  natural  and  fitting  to  the  Chris- 
tian, has  ever  been  a  note  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  It 
has  been  often  mistrusted  and  misinterpreted.  The 
"World  has  often  been  angered  by  it.  The  World  said 
of  the  early  Church  :  These  men  are  traitors,  and  would 
be  rebels  ;  they  hate  the  Empire,  and  are  ready  to  betray 
it ;  they  love  our  enemies,  and  are  eager  to  comfort  and 
abet  them: — for  the  World  knew  not  what  spirit  they 
were  of:  it  was  a  stranger  and  entered  not  into  their  joy. 
It  expected  them  to  despair  of  the  future,  and  lo  !  they 


PKOSPECT    OF    THE    CIIUECH    OF    CHRIST.  129 

had  hope  of  the  future  !     It  required  them  to  curse  the 
barbarians,  and  lo  !  they  blessed  the  barbarians! 

And  so  it  has  been  often  in  later  times,  when  the 
Church  has  recognized  her  mission  in  accepting  changes 
terrible  to  the  world,  but  full  of  consolation  to  herself; 
when  she  has  joined  herself  to  reversals  of  policy,  and 
claimed  her  own  in  revolutions  of  opinion.  And  so, 
finally,  may  it  ever  be  with  us  !  May  the  trials  of  our 
faith  become  the  seed  of  faith  in  those  who  witness  it  I 
Are  we  harassed  ourselves  with  new  forms  of  thought, 
new  questions,  moral  and  spiritual?  Let  us  cherish  the 
simple  faith,  the  guileless  hearts,  of  the  millions  around 
us.  Are  we  tlireatened  with  the  loss  of  a  province  here  ? 
Let  us  gain  an  empire  on  the  continent  of  America  or 
Australia,  in  the  isles  beneath  the  Southern  Cross.  To 
the  common  conscience  of  man  the  words  of  Christ,  the 
holiness  of  the  Holy  One,  will  still  speak  with  power. 
He  will  always  teach  with  authority.  'No  terror  or  dis- 
aster can  ever  frown  on  the  Church  again  more  appalling 
than  the  onset  of  the  barbarians.  No  peril  was  ever 
more  wonderfully  averted  ;  no  evil  more  conspicuously 
turned  to  good ;  no  insult  to  God's  majesty  more  glori- 
ously transfigured  to  His  honour. 


9 


LECTURE    YII. 

THE  XORTHERX  SENSE  OF  PERSONAL  RELATION  TO  GOD. 

Ephesians  IV.  13. 

Till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  Fait\  and  of  the  "knowledge  of 
the  Son  of  God^  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the 
stature  of  thefuhiess  of  Christ. 

The  sentence  before  iis,  interpreted  by  Scripture 
generally,  declares  the  principle  of  the  Christian  cove- 
nent :  that  one  universal  Church  is  appointed  to  preserve, 
under  divine  guidance,  the  true  knowledge  of  the  Faith, 
and  of  Hini  in  whom  we  believe,  the  Son  of  God ;  and 
at  the  same  time  that  this  economy  is  directed  to  God's 
eternal  purpose  of  sanctifying  the  individual  believer, 
with  a  view  to  his  justification  and  perfection  hereafter. 
God  has  made  a  covenant  with  His  Church  in  general, 
in  order  to  carry  out  His  covenant  with  each  member  of 
it  in  particular.  His  Church  is  ordained  ;  it  is  informed 
with  all  necessary  knowledge ;  it  is  protected  and  per- 
petuated :  but  this  is  not  the  end  of  His  covenant.  It 
is  the  means  to  the  end,  and  the  end  respects  the  indi- 
vidual believer-  me  and  you — every  soul  that  believeth — 


UNITY   OF   FAITH   AND   KNOWLEDGE.  131 

every  one  of  us  from  tlie  least  even  to  the  greatest ;— till 
we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  Faith,  and  of  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  Son  of  God,— that  is,  in  the  body  of  the 
Church  keeping  for  us  the  Truth  and  teaching  ns,— unto  a 
perfect  man  ;  unto  the  highest  point  of  Christian  holiness 
here  attainable,  to  be  increased  hereafter  even  to  the 
measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ,  our 
model,  our  standard  of  holiness,  here  at  least  nnattain- 
able. 

I  spoke  at  our  last  meeting  of  the  touching  hopeful- 
ness of  the  Christian  Church  in  the  depths  of  depression 
and  perplexity.  That  hope,  which  is  a  special  grace  of 
the  Christian  character  —  which  fulfils  a  duty  and  has 
promise  of  a  reward — was  shown  forth  strikingly  in  the 
crisis  of  the  ISTorthern  invasions.  It  was  founded  on 
the  conviction  of  faith,  that  the  Lord  would  not  fail  His 
own,  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  never  leave  His  work  un- 
finished. But  not  the  less  did  it  look,  with  the  instinct 
of  self-preservation,  to  every  hnman  source  of  confidence, 
and  seek  anxiously  for  every  means  of  realizing  its  as- 
surance. The  Church  worked  earnestly  and  circum. 
spectly  in  building  up  her  converts  in  the  unity  of  the 
Faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God.  She 
exerted  herself  to  the  utmost;  she  strained,  no  doubt, 
even  beyond  her  warrant  the  claims  to  obedience  and 
submission  which  they  so  generously  acknowledged.  She 
claimed  to  speak  with  sovereign  authority,  and  promised/ 
salvation  to  her  subjects,  as  if  it  lay  alnjost  in  her  own 
caprice  to  give  or  to  withhold  it.     She  spoke  of  God's 


132  .  LECTUKE    YII. 

covenant  with  His  children,  too  much,  too  exclusively, 
as  if  it  were  a  covenant  with  a  chosen  people,  with  the 
Church  or  society  of  the  baptized ;  too  little  as  his  cov 
enant  with  each  individual  soul  that  believes.  She  per- 
mitted, she  indulged,  perliaps  she  courted,  the  vain  super- 
stitious fancies  of  her  votaries,  and  allowed  them  to  give 
to  pretended  miracles  and  portents  the  belief  they  should 
have  reserved  for  the  witness  of  the  understanding  and 
the  conscience.  But  whatever  her  defects  and  excesses, 
she  was  constrained  throughout  by  an  abounding  charity ; 
and  neither  the  authority  she  claimed,  nor  the  terrors 
she  announced,  nor  the  signs  and  wonders  by  which  she 
professed  to  be  accompanied,  worked,  I  believe,  so  effect- 
ually for  the  conversion  of  the  nations  and  the  salvation 
of  individual  souls,  as  the  love  wliich  moved  the  heart 
of  a  Gregory  at  the  sight  of  the  young  heathens  from 
Britain,  the  love  which  impelled  a  Severinus  and  a  Bon- 
iface to  spend  and  be  spent  in  evangelizing  the  heathens 
in  Germany. 

Hopeful,  however,  as  the  Church  displayed  herself 
in  the  face  of  the  Northern  invasion,  she  knew  not,  as  it 
would  seem,  the  ground  wliich  really  existed,  humanly 
speaking,  for  the  hope  with  which  her  Lord  had  inspired 
her.  That  ground  surely  lay  in  the  spirit  of  independ- 
ence and  individuality  which  characterized  the  races 
among  whom  her  future  was  cast.  I  have  shown  before 
how  distinctly  Religion,  in  the  view  c>f  Greek  and  Ro- 
man Paganism,  was  the  idea  of  a  compact  of  God  with 
the  nation,   not  with   the   individual.     Whatever   the 


THE   PAGAN   IDEA   OF   A   NATIONAL   COVENANT.        133 

future  hopes  or  fears  of  the  worshipper^ — whatever  his 
notion  of  a  retributive  I'rovidence — it  respected,  in  his 
view,  the  city  he  belonged  to,  rather  than  himself  the 
citizen.  '  God,'  he  would  have  said,  ^  is  our  God  : '  so 
indeed  says  the  Christian,  '  Our  Father  which  art  in 
heaven : '  but  there  the  Pagan  stopped  ;  he  did  not  say 
with  David  and  the  child  of  Abraham,  '  Thou  art  my 
God  even  unto  the  end ; '  he  could  not  enter,  like  the 
Christian,  into  the  spirit  of  St.  Paul's  exclamation :  '  I 
thank  my  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  for  you  all.'  He 
carried  out  to  its  full  extent  the  fruitful  idea  of  a  na- 
tional covenant,  ^^lacing  the  root  of  holiness  in  obedience 
to  law ;  in  subjection  to  order  ;  in  maintaining  the  mu- 
tual relations  of  man  with  man  as  members  one  of  an- 
other ;  in  the  appointment  of  a  rule,  a  polity,  a  common- 
wealth whether  secular  or  spiritual.  This  was  the  econ- 
omy, doubtless  providentially  appointed,  which  ruled 
the  world,  which  held  the  bands  of  civilization,  and  of 
all  life,  moral  and  spiritual,  at  the  period  when  the  Gos- 
pel issued  on  its  mission.  This  was  the  inheritance  of 
ancient  wisdom  into  which  the  Church  of  Christ  entered, 
when  she  was  exalted  to  place  and  power  over  the  heart 
and  intellect  of  mail.  And  this  inheritance  the  Church 
of  the  Fathers,  the  Church  of  l^icsea,  the  Church  of 
Ambrose  and  Augustine,  accepted  as  the  ground  on 
which  she  was  to  build,  as  the  framework  given  her  to 
fill :  for  neither  was  the  Church  then  unconscious  of  her 
further  mission  and  deeper  principles ;  of  her  duty  to 
the  individual  man,  as  himself  heir  of  God,  joint  heir 


lo4:  LECTUKE    YII. 

witli  Christ,  to  be  glorified  personally  with  Him,  if  first 
he  suffer  with  Him. 

The  message  of  Christ  to  the  inclivicliial  man  may 
be  traced  back  to  the  utterances  of  His  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  when  He  called  men  forth  from  the  cities  into 
tlie  open  country,  from  the  conventional  forms  and 
habits  of  society  to  direct  communion  between  Him- 
self and  their  own  hearts ;  when  He  revealed  to  them 
the  mystery  of  which  the  world  had  so  long  been 
ignorant,  of  their  personal  relation  to  a  Father  in  heaven. 
"When  His  disciples  went  forth  from  their  last  meeting 
with  Him,  and  began  to  preach  to  all  nations  the  tidings 
of  His  covenant,  they  found,  as  we  have  seen,  some 
slight  glimpse  attained,  some  partial  apprehension  here 
and  there  only,  of  this  spiritual  destiny  of  the  creature. 
The  teachers  of  the  Pagan  schools,  long  confined  to  the 
mental  habits  of  ages  of  spiritual  darkness,  had  at  last 
roused  themselves  at  the  faint  glimmer  of  light  dawning 
— a  twilight  peering  above  the  horizon  from  a  Sun  still 
hidden  beneath  it.  The  Church  and  the  schools  met 
together ;  the  Church  shot  forth  steadfast  rays  of 
spiritual  brightness;  the  schools  caught  and  reflected 
them  from  hour  to  hour  with  increasing  consciousness. 
The  dignity  of  man,  as  a  spiritual  being,  an  offshoot 
from  the  divine  stem,  became  more  fitly  recognized. 
The  notion  of  the  national  compact  grew  weaker ;  that 
of  the  personal  compact  strengthened  and  expanded. 
"We  admit  that  the  Pagans  of  the  Empire  did  conceive 
a  worthier  sense  of  the  claims  of  the  slave  and  captive. 


PARTIAL   ADVANCE   IN   THE   PAGAN   IDEA.  135 

as  a  man,  a  soul,  a  spiritual  intelligence ;  a  being- 
capable  of  riglits  and  duties ;  a  cbild  of  God  as  well  as 
a  servant  of  man ;  an  integral  portion  of  the  universe, 
an  unit  in  God's  creation,  not  a  mere  accident  or 
function.  We  are  not  blind  to  tlie  dawn  of  mutual 
love  and  cliaritj,  tlie  acknowledgment  of  a  law  of 
sympathy  and  mutual  help  and  comfort  throughout 
the  races  and  families  of  mankind,  as  members  of 
the  household  of  God ;  to  the  hope  and  augury,  faint 
indeed  and  imperfect,  of  a  common  mansion  in  heaven, 
a  city  hereafter  to  be  revealed  of  which  our  homes  and 
cities  are  tji^es,  and  shadows  only. 

So  much  may  be  conceded  to  the  advance  of  reason 
and  morality  among  the  Pagans  themselves,  to  the  prog- 
ress of  civilization,  to  the  growth  of  the  natural  man, 
which,  under  God's  will  and  providence,  had  thus  added 
one  cubit  to  its  stature.  Bat  this  we  may  remark  of  the 
advance  of  humanity  among  the  Pagans,  slight  and  im- 
perfect as  it  was,  that  it  lay  merely  in  the  indulgence  of 
natural  feeling ;  that  it  was  a  relief  from  the  sense  of 
pain  and  disturbance  at  the  sight  of  suiFering,  not  the 
acknowledgment  of  a  duty,  not  the  conception  of  a  prin- 
ciple. The  Pagan  had  no  regard,  in  the  exercise  of  char- 
ity, to  ulterior  issues  personal  to  himself;  it  was  no  love 
of  a  Creator  or  a  Saviour  that  constrained  him ;  no  sense 
of  duty  and  obedience  to  a  higher  will ;  no  effort  to  do 
the  task  appointed  him  by  God,  and  so  put  himself  in 
relation  with  God.  It  was  no  fulfilment  of  a  covenant 
between  him  and  his  Maker ;  no  longing  in  all  he  said 


136  LECTURE   VII. 

or  did  to  feel  tliat  like  Christ  liimself,  he  was  always 
about  his  Father's  business.  In  short,  it  had  no  hope  of 
a  reward  for  zealous  performance, — no  fear  of  punish- 
ment for  neglect ;  and,  however  we  may  reason  about  it, 
this  apprehension  of  a  future  account,  according  to  the 
deeds  done  in  the  body,  will  be  ever  the  most  effective 
instrument  for  the  sanctifying  and  perfecting  of  the  crea- 
ture. Thus  every  question  is  brought  back  at  last  to 
this — How  do  I  stand  towards  God  ?  The  man  is  brought 
face  to  face  with  his  Master  and  Judge,  to  whom  alone 
he  owes  his  Being  here ;  with  whom  only  are  bound  up 
all  his  prospects  hereafter.  Such  ideas  as  these  are 
Christian,  and,  I  may  say.  Christian  only ;  the  Pagan 
could  not  conceive  or  entertain  them.  And  from  these 
ideas  has  sprung  all  that  is  most  distinctive  in  Christian 
society  and  culture,  as  discovered  to  us  in  the  history  of 
eighteen  Christian  centuries.  The  most  marked  results 
of  Gospel  teaching  in  the  world  around  us  have  issued 
from  the  individuality  it  impressed  upon  the  views  and 
conscience  of  the  disciple. 

This  individuality  was  strongly  marked  in  the  Chris- 
tian society  from  the  first.  The  great  complaint  of  the 
Pagans  against  the  believers  was,  that  they  repudiated 
the  supremacy  of  the  State,  of  common  interests,  over 
the  man  and  liis  personal  interests ; — that  they  looked 
altogether  to  a  sphere  of  action  in  which  the  State  could 
have  no  concern,  Csesar  no  part  nor  lot.  By  this  the 
Pagans,  blind  and  selfish,  were  perplexed  ;  they  fancied 
themselves  thwarted  and  aggrieved.     The  feeling  which 


REVELATION  OF  A  PERSONAL  RELATION  TO  GOD.   137 

led  man  to  conversion,  to  abjuring  of  idols,  to  refusing 
of  oatlis  and  unholy  obligations,  to  suffering  for  con- 
science' sake,  to  martyrdom, — was  strange  to  tliem,  an- 
noying, irritating.  That  the  same  feeling  led  to  a  purer 
morality,  a  wider  humanity,  to  justice  and  charity,  to 
the  manumission  of  slaves,  the  cherishing  of  the  sick  and 
aged,  to  a  religious  sense  of  marriage-duty  and  of  paren- 
tal duty  ; — that  it  was  in  fact  far  more  conducive  to  the 
true  ends  of  civil  polity,  than  the  harsh  repressive  disci- 
pline of  the  human  lawgiver,  which  gave  stones  for 
bread  and  for  fish  serpents, — this  the  w^isest  of  them,  at 
last  enlightened  by  experience,  were  fain  reluctantly  to 
acknowledire.  The  edicts  of  Julian  and  the  earnest  ex- 
hortations  with  which  he  enforced  them,  to  imitate  the 
Christians  in  w^orks  of  love  and  equity,  attest  the  results 
already  attained  by  Christian  teaching.  But  the  Pagan 
still  rejected  the  principle  on  which  these  results  were 
founded — the  principle  of  man's  personal  relation  to  God, 
prompting  him  to  seek  the  promised  union  with  Kim  by 
doing  His  works,  by  striving  after  His  pattern,  by  aspir- 
ins: to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fidness  of  the 
divine  Model.  The  first  ages  of  Christianity  sufiiciently 
established  the  fact  that  a  new  revelation  of  morality  had 
been  made,  grounded  on  this  close  connection  between 
the  Creator  and  the  creature. 

But  the  Christian  graces,  as  we  have  seen,  could  not 
grow  unto  the  perfect  man  amidst  a  society  which  was 
still  half  Pagan  at  heart,  which  still  clung  to  the  idea  of 
a  national  covenant,  of  a  favoured  polity,  a  divine  em- 


138  LECTURE  vn. 

pire,  and  regarded  clmrcli-meinbersliip,  known  by  out- 
ward signs  and  professions,  as  the  great  sufficient  pledge 
of  tlie  divine  acceptance.  Sucli  was  the  religion  of  Chris- 
tian Eome  and  Constantinople  ;  of  the  Latin  Church  of 
the  Empire,  and  the  Greek ;  but  such  was  not  the  reli- 
gion, not  the  simple  revelation  made  in  Palestine,  taught 
by  Jesus,  interpreted  by  Panl  and  the  Apostles.  The 
guests  invited  were  not  worthy.  Jesus  must  be  accepted 
by  otlier  hearts,  and  worshipped  in  other  ways.  A  new 
element  must  be  infused  into  the  Church,  the  instinct  of 
individuality,  the  sense  of  personal  relation  to  the  Al- 
mighty. The  character  of  the  E^orthern  nations  as  por- 
trayed to  us  by  its  first  observers,  marks  the  fitness  of 
those  races  to  be  called,  even  from  the  lanes  and  byways, 
to  sit  down  at  the  Lord's  supper.  The  German,  in  his 
native  wilds,  was  imbued,  we  are  told,  with  the  true 
spirit  of  freedom ;  with  thorough  independence  and  self- 
reliance;  submitting  to  law  indeed,  but  only  to  law  as 
the  word  of  his  own  will  and  conscience  ;  yielding  obe- 
dience to  his  leaders,  but  only  as  chosen  by  himself.  His 
position  was  like  that  of  the  faithful  centurion ;  as  one 
under  authority,  having  soldiers  under  him  ;  but  the  au- 
thority was  one  to  which  he  was  not  impressed,  con- 
scripted, reduced  by  brute  force ;  but  one  which  he  had 
accepted  and  acknowledged  from  choice  and  reason,  for 
conscience'  and  duty's  sake. 

And  thus  placed  under  authority,  he  gained  back,  as 
it  were,  from  the  fountain  of  authority  powers  and  priv- 
ileges of  his  own.     As  a  vassal  he  held  of  his  suzerain  ; 


THE    GOTHIC   PEINCIPLE   OF    SUBMISSION.  139 

his  obligation,  liis  fealty  was  personal;  not  owed  to  tlis 
State,  but  to  tlie  Chief  of  the  State ;  not  to  the  Law,  but 
to  the  Judge ;  not  to  the  Word,  but  to  the  Speaker  of 
the  Word.  Between  him  and  his  sovereign,  service  and 
protection,  faith  and  favour,  were  mutual  and  recipro- 
cal. The  compact  was  between  the  individuals.  It  con- 
cerned them  only,  and  between  them  no  other  power  on 
earth  could  intervene.  To  the  idea  of  such  a  compact 
the  Greek  or  Eoman  could  not  attain,  for  he  conceived 
no  such  relation  to  an  earthly  sovereign.  Patriotism  he 
conceived  and  felt ;  of  loyalty  he  had  no  conception. 
Patriotism  was  a  Pagan  virtue,  but  loyalty  is  a  Chris- 
tian grace.  And  as  Patriotism  was  the  classical,  so  was 
loyalty  the  feudal  principle — the  principle  of  devotion  to 
the  person  of  the  sovereign.  Four  centuries  of  empire 
could  not  engender  the  feelhig  of  loyalty  to  the  Pagan 
Emperors ;  even  under  Christian  teaching  the  progress 
of  such  a  feeling  was  slow  and  dubious  at  Rome  or  Con- 
stantinople. But  the  conquerors  from  the  North  brought 
it  with  them  straight  from  their  deserts,  and  accepted 
gratefully  the  sanction  which  Christianity  seemed  so 
willingly  to  extend  to  it.  Christianity  interpreted  to 
them  their  own  instinct,  hallowed  their  own  principle, 
established  and  perfected  their  own  law. 

Por  this  is  the  very  type,  as  it  seems  to  me,  of  the 
relation  of  the  believer  to  God,  as  revealed  in  the  Gos- 
pel,—a  relation  of  reciprocal  obligations  with  which  the 
stranger  intermeddleth  not.  To  his  Lord  the  Christian 
must  stand  or  fall.     The  believer  has  entered  into  cove- 


14:0  LECTURE   VII. 

nant  witli  his  Lord;  lie  is  placed  in  His  Cliiircli   or 
spiritual  kingdom  by  baptism  ;  bis  allegiance  is  claimed, 
in  theory,  by  virtue  of  a  personal  act  of  faith  and  sub- 
mission ;  a  promise  is  made  or  implied  on  his  Lord's  part 
in  return  for  this  act  of  fealty,  a  promise  of  grace  and 
spiritual   protection,   a   promise   of  future   acceptance. 
Thenceforth  if  our  heart  condemn  us  not  we  have  con- 
fidence towards    God.      And  whatsoever  we    ask  we 
receive  of  Him,  because  we  keep  His  commandments. 
We  seek  to  know  His  will,  and  are  earnest  in  doing  it. 
^Ye  attend  Him  in  His   courts ;   we   wait  npon   His 
appearance ;  we  bend  the  knee,  and  open  the  lips,  and 
pour  forth  the  heart  before  Him.     "We  press  towards 
Him  amidst  the  infinite  multitude  of  our  fellow-subjects ; 
we  arrange  among  one  another  the  times  and  seasons 
and  ways  and  means  of  approacliing  Him.     We  have, 
indeed,  our  common  rules  and  forms  of  service ;  our 
ceremonial,  our  etiquette ;  but  these  are  but  outward 
tokens,  adopted  for  convenience'  sake ;  the  true  service 
is  that  of  the  individual  only,  the  willing  heart,  the 
active  hand,  the  convinced  understanding.     Each  of  us 
has  his  own  grace  and  acceptance  to  ask  for.     To  this 
none  can  help  us  but  ourselves  only.     For  this  we  seek 
each  in  turn  an  interview  with  the  Great  One,  the  Holy 
One.     To  each  He  vouchsafes,  not  charily,  not  grudg- 
ingly, not  at  stated  times  and  places  only,  but  ever  and 
everywhere,  His  presence.     To  each  He  off'ers  His  hand 
for  adoration,  opens  His  lips  with  favour,  admits  our 


SEXSE   OF   PERSONAL   EELATIOX   TO   GOD.  141 

claim  upon  His  promise,  and  sends  ns  home  rejoicing. 
Christ  is  the  type  of  Christian  sovereignty. 

And  this  sense  of  a  personal  relation  to  God,  superior 
to  all  national  and  social  relations,  has  produced  the 
highest  development  of  spiritual  life  in  man ;  of  that 
spiritual  life  whicli  may  lead  hereafter  to  the  measure 
of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ.  Tlie  devotion  of 
martp's,  the  resignation  of  sufferers,  the  self-renunciation 
of  monks  and  anchorites,  the  zeal  of  missionaries,  the 
fervour  of  teachers  and  preachers, — all  these  have  sprung 
from  this  paramount  sense  of  a  direct  relation  to  God, 
of  communion  v^^ith  Him.  Such  a  sense,  excited  and 
inflamed  to  the  uttermost,  may  lead  to  excess  and  fanati- 
cism, but  its  root  lies  deep  in  a  true  Christian  faith.  It 
is  the  fount  of  a  divine  revelation.  It  shows  that  God 
has  been  busy  with  us,  that  He  has  planted,  through  His 
Spirit,  a  new  principle  of  action  in  our  hearts.  The  old 
world  had  its  merits  and  produced  its  proper  fruits,  but 
these  are  not  of  them.  If  here  and  there  we  have 
remarked  the  shadow  of  such  Christian  graces  among 
the  later  Pagans,  they  have  been  remarkable  only 
because  they  were  so  rare,  so  exceptional.  Living  unto 
God  consciously  and  avowedly  from  a  sense  of  love 
towards  Him,  faith  in  Him,  hope  in  Him, — these  are 
fruits  of  Christianity ;  fruits,  I  repeat,  of  the  true  Chris- 
tian sense  of  personal  relation  to  Him. 

Then  mark  what  immediately  follows.  The  sense 
of  relation  to  God,  and  to  Him  only,  cannot  be  satisfied 
in  this  life.     It  claims  a  further  existence,  a  new  life 


1-12  LECTUKE   YII. 

liereal'ter ;  it  claims  union  with  this  Being  who  is  the  end 
of  its  existence  here.  It  demands  Immortality.  The 
ISTorthern  nations,  to  whom  the  great  ideas  of  Christian- 
ity came  so  closely  home,  demanded  Immortality.  The 
religion  of  the  Germans  and  the  Goths  was  instinct 
with  a  sense  of  future  existence ;  not  a  languid  hope, 
a  curious  speculation,  sncli  as  might  here  and  there 
amuse  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  but  a  passion,  an 
appetite,  a  demand,  a  faith.  Hence  their  souls  were 
'  capable  of  death,'  they  disdained  to  ^  spare  a  life  so 
soon  to  be  recovered.'  And  as  claimants  to  immortal- 
ity they  joined  themselves  to  Christianity  and  identified 
themselves  with  it.  They  took  it  to  their  hearts ;  they 
incorporated  it  with  their  very  being,  made  it  the  spring 
and  life  of  all  their  actions,  of  their  going  out  and  their 
coming  in,  of  their  dowm-sitting  and  their  up-rising? 
They  fastened  themselves  upon  it,  as  the  living  answer 
to  every  doubt,  the  solution  of  every  perplexity.  When 
the  missionary  Paulinus  appeared  before  the  king  of 
IsTorthumbria,  the  cross  in  his  hand,  preaching  Jesus 
Christ  and  the  Resurrection,  the  chiefs  met  thoughtfully 
together  to  listen  to  his  message,  and  to  consider  of  their 
answer.  Then  spake  out  one  of  the  wisest  and  holiest 
among  them,  and  said,  as  the  ancient  chronicles  have 
related  :  '  Man's  life,  O  king,  seems  to  me  like  the  flight 
of  a  swallow  wdien  it  enters  your  Hall  at  one  door  and 
presently  flies  out  at  another.  Without  arc  cold  and 
darkness,  within  the  fire  burns  brightly  on  the  hearth, 
the  lights  blaze  on  the  table,  the  air  is  redolent  of  wine 


MEDIEVAL   BELIEF   IN   A   FUTURE   LIFE.  143 

and  viands,  the  voice  of  the  miiistrel  carols  pleasantly. 
For  a  moment  it  rejoices  in  our  warmth,  our  light,  and 
our  mirth  ;  in  another  moment  it  is  gone,  and  flits  from 
darkness  again  into  darkness.  Can  this  stranger  give  us 
sure  knowledge  of  our  past  and  our  future,  of  the  dark 
behind  us  and  the  dark  before  us,  let  us  receive  him 
gladly  and  entertain  him  gratefully.' ' 

And  such  knowledge  the  preacher  of  the  Faith  pro- 
fessed to  give  with  clearness  and  certainty.  The  nation 
accepted  and  believed  it.  They  felt  it  as  an  assurance 
of  their  personal  relation  to  God  ;  of  their  oneness  with 
Him  from  whom  they  had  issued,  and  to  whom  they 
should  return.  To  this  belief  they  clung  wdth  a  perfect 
conviction.  With  this  engrossing  belief  in  inmiortality 
all  the  strength  and  all  the  weakness  of  medieval  faith, 
its  religion  and  its  superstition,  were  equally  connected. 
It  admitted  of  no  doubt,  no  hesitation  with  them.  They 
found  in  it  uo  moral  difficulty ;  they  followed  it  to  all 
its  logical  consequences.  In  the  future  life  they  lived 
and  breathed  and  had  their  being.  Amidst  all  their 
excesses  and  iniquities,  their  cruelties  and  their  false- 
hoods, they  still  held  strictly  to  the  revelation  of  a 
future  life  and  a  future  retribution.  This  belief  they 
overlaid  with  many  a  monstrous  fancy ;  they  perverted 
it  to  divers  fond  and  foolish  inventions ;  they  evaded, 
with  perverse  ingenuity,  the  duties  to  which  it  should 
have  strictly  bound  them.  Their  visions  of  Death  and 
Judgment,  of  Hell,  Purgatory,  and  Paradise,  might  be 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (N). 


114:  LECTUEE    YII. 

vain,  carnal,  and  even  demoralizing ;  but  they  sprang 
direct  from  this  intense  realization  of  another  life,  of 
which  we,  cold  and  sceptical  as  we  are,  have  hardly  a 
conception.  How  far  their  belief  availed  to  pnriiy  their 
hearts  and  curb  their  passions,  who  shall  say  ?  When  I 
look  into  my  own,  I  dare  not  too  closely  inquire.  But 
there  it  was  ;  there,  deep  in  their  heart  of  hearts,  lay  that 
awful  doctrine  of  a  future  life  and  eternal  responsibility, 
ever  ready  to  save  souls  from  the  burning,  to  add  unto  the 
Church  such  as  should  be  saved.  Of  its  constraining 
force  and  universal  influence  take  a  sino;le  illustration. 
We  look  with  admiration  at  our  monuments  of  religious 
architecture.  All  Christendom  is  full  of  them ;  the  his- 
tory of  our  faith  is  visibly  written  in  them.  We  com- 
pare them  with  the  corresponding  fabrics  of  Paganism  ; 
our  medieval  churches  with  the  temples  of  classical 
antiquity.  I  w411  not  ask  which  are  the  most  beautiful, 
which  express  most  vividly  the  religious  sense  of  human 
nature.  But  mark  how  different  their  origin  respec- 
tiyely.  The  Pagan  temples  were  always  the  public 
works  of  nations  and  communities;  they  were  national 
buildings  dedicated  to  national  purposes.  Tlie  medieval 
churches,  on  tlie  other  hand,  were  the  creation  of  indi- 
viduals, monuments  of  personal  piety,  tokens  of  the  hope 
of  a  personal  reward.  They  were  built  for  the  builders' 
love  of  God ;  they  sprang  from  thankfulness  for  past 
services,  or  hopes  of  future  forgiveness.  They  were 
tokens  of  grace  bespoken,  of  sins  confessed,  of  judg- 
ment apprehended.      They  were  lifted  on  high  for  the 


MEDIEVAL    SENSE    OF   SPIRITUAL   EQUALITY.  Ii5 

glorj  of  God,  in  acknowledgment  of  the  infinite  great- 
ness and  power  and  majesty  of  Plim  who  once  came 
down  from  heaven  to  save  them  that  were  lost.  Of  the 
thonsands  of  towers  and  spires  that  point  to  heaven 
throughout  this  Christian  land, — throughout  all  Chris- 
tian lands,— each  one  betokens  the  aspirations  of  a 
believer  in  immortality ;  each  one  may  «eem  to  embody 
to  us  the  upward  flight  of  a  spirit,  mounting  already  in 
imagination  to  the  abodes  of  everlasting  felicity.  Again, 
I  say,  let  us  not  too  closely  scan  the  extravagance  and  su- 
perstition which  entered  often  into  the  builders'  motives. 
AYe  see  in  them,  at  least,  a  manifest  demonstration  of  the 
abounding  apprehension  of  a  future  state,  developed  by 
the  sense  of  personal  responsibility  to  God. 

But  lastly,  this  expectation  of  immortality  led,  and 
must  always  lead  men,  to  a  practical  conviction  of  the 
equality  of  all  mankind.  He  who  built  a  church  to  God 
for  the  salvation  of  his  own  soul  was  convinced  of  the 
need  of  such  a  cliurch  for  the  salvation  of  his  brethren. 
All  Christians,  he  believed,  had  the  same  interest  in  the 
prayers  of  the  faithful,  in  the  ministry  of  the  priest,  in  the 
divine  sacrifice  commemorated  within  those  holy  pre- 
cincts. To  build  a  church  was  to  build  up  the  souls  of 
men,  line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept,  as  stone  upon 
stone.  He  accepted  then  from  his  heart  the  doctrine  of 
Revelation,  so  repugnant  to  the  heart  of  stone  of  the 
Heathen,  that  all  men  are  alike  in  the  sight  and  dispen- 
sation of  God  ;  that  Christ  died  for  all ;  that  '  His  father 
is  oior  father,'  and  '  His  mercy  is  over  all  his  works  ; ' 
10 


146  LECTUEE   YII. 

that  '  in  His  liouse  are  many  mansions  ; '  tliat  He  '  of  a 
tnitli  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  but  in  every  nation  he 
that  feareth  Ilim  and  worketh  righteousness  is  accepted 
of  Him.'  And  so  he  built  his  church,  that  within  it 
there  might  be  no  distinction  of  persons,  but  that  all 
should  have  access  to  God  in  Christ,  partake  of  the  same 
sacraments,  share  in  the  same  grace,  repose  at  last  on  the 
same  bosom. 

To  so  obvious  a  truth,  a  doctrine  so  acknowledged, 
of  the  equality  of  all  men  in  the  sight  of  God,  we  may 
feel  almost  ashamed  to  refer.  But  the  course  of  these 
addresses  has,  I  think,  abundantly  shown  that  such  a 
doctrine  was  not  easily  accepted  ;  that  nothing  short  of 
a  divine  revelation  would  have  discovered,  nothing  but 
God's  ever-present  grace  would  have  practically  estab- 
lished it.  By  the  Pagans  it  was  for  ages  repudiated,  and 
worked  its  way  among  them  at  last  slowly,  partiall}^,  and 
most  imperfectly.  The  natural  Paga*uism  of  the  human 
heart,  ever  ready  to  rise  again  within  ns,  as  has  appeared 
again  and  again  in  history,  has  long  revolted  and  does 
still  revolt  against  it.  You  need  not  go  to  books  for  it. 
Put  aside  the  records  of  the  j)ast ;  forget  the  old  philoso- 
phers and  the  old  ^^olitics,  and  the  old  mythologies  of 
which  I  have  so  much  spoken.  Ask  of  the  men  you 
see  around  you ;  ask  of  some  adept  in  physical  science 
whom  you  may  know  as  one  who  repudiates  the  teach- 
ing of  the  Gospel ;  ask  of  some  moral  philosopher,  of 
some  statesman,  some  chief  and  leader  among  men — 
does  he  hope  for  a  personal  immortality  for  himself? 


WITNESS    OF   THE    CHUECH   TO   THIS    EQUALITY.        14Y 

Yes — lie  will  perhaps  tell  you,  with  more  or  less  humili- 
ty— I  do  think,  he  will  say,  that  the  feelings  and  aspira- 
tions within  me,  the  gifts  of  which  I  am  actually  con- 
scious here,  the  greater  gifts  which  I  imagine  may  be- 
come mine  elsewhere,  may  suffice  to  assure  me  of  another 
state  of  existence,  a  higher  development  in  a  wider 
sphere.  And  so,  as  we  have  seen,  in  their  most  hopeful 
mood,  said  the  sages  of  antiquity.  But  ask  him  fur- 
ther : — And  have  you  the  same  hope,  the  same  augury, 
for  the  untutored  child,  the  frivolous  woman,  the  pauper 
in  your  village,  the  sweeper  at  your  street-crossing  ? — 
'  "No  ! ' — he  will  answer,  if  he  answers  honestly.  '  ISio  I — 
]^o  ! — I  can  have  no  such  hope,  no  such  imagination  for 
them ;  their  case,  I  feel,  is  very  different  from  mine ; 
their  life  is  not  as  my  life ;  their  spirit  not  as  my  spirit ; 
I  know  nothing  about  them ;  I  can  say  nothing  about 
them ;  I  will  not  think  about  them,  lest  the  desperate- 
ness  of  their  future — for  desperate  indeed  it  seems  to  me 
to  be — should  throw  a  shade  of  dubiousness  on  my  own.' 
— So  I  am  sure  he  would  answer ;  for  such  was  the  an- 
swer of  the  sages  of  old  :  and  the  modern  sage  is  no  wiser, 
has  no  more  knowledge  of  his  own  than  they  had. 

But  ours  is  a  different  scheme ;  a  more  consistent,  a 
more  logical,  and,  with  all  its  difficulties,  I  believe,  an 
easier  scheme  than  theirs.     God  wills,  we  maintain,  that 

ALL   MEN   EVERTWHEEE   SHOULD   BE    SAVED.       He   is  ready 

to  receive  us  all,  as  His  children,  heirs  of  God  and  joint 
heirs  with  Christ.  And  to  this  point  all  our  teaching 
tends.     This  doctrine  we  proclaim,  we  enforce,  we  urge 


148  LECTUEE   YII. 

upon  mankind,  as  the  last  blessed  end  of  the  divine  dis- 
pensation. This  is  the  heart's  core  of  our  sermons ;  this 
the  idea  of  onr  ministry  and  onr  services.  To  this  the 
Church  is  a  standing  witness.  She  has  borne  and  still 
bears  her  witness  faitlifully,  with  iio  res])ect  of  persons, 
as  becomes  the  interpreter  of  Christ.  We  remember 
how,  some  years  ago,  this  vast  city  was  moved  by  the 
pomp  of  an  illustrious  funeral.  The  great  captain  of  the 
age,  the  great  statesman  of  our  generation,  the  foremost 
man,  as  we  proudly  said,  of  all  the  world,  was  to  be  laid 
under  the  lofty  dome  of  the  grandest  of  our  Christian 
temples.  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  was  to  be  thronged  with 
the  wisest  and  noblest  of  our  countrymen.  The  streets 
were  to  be  choked  with  multitudes  of  every  class  and 
station.  Far  and  near  the  people  were  to  be  swayed  by 
one  spasm  of  sympathetic  devotion.  God  had  taken  to 
Himself  the  soul  of  one  He  had  cherished  and  honoured  ; 
and  the  nation,  full  of  hope  and  faith,  was  about  to  com- 
mit his  body  to  the  ground,  to  be  raised  a  glorified  body 
in  the  resurrection  of  the  just.  For  myself — if  you  will 
pardon  the  reference — I  was  far  away  from  a  scene  which 
I  would  willingly  liave  witnessed,  and  borne  testimony, 
among  my  fellow-Christians,  to  the  mercies  and  deliver- 
ances we  have  received  through  him — as  on  this  very  day, 
j  ust  fifty  years  ago !  But  a  simple  duty  lay  upon  me.  I  was 
required  to  bury,  in  his  native  village,  the  meanest,  the 
most  nameless  of  Christ's  poor.  And  so,  while  here  the 
bells  were  tolling,  and  the  cannon  booming,  and  beneath 
the  vaulted  roof  the  mighty  organ  pealing,  and  among 


WITNESS   OF   THE   BUEIAL    SERVICE.  149 

all  and  througli  all  tlie  murmur  of  human  agitation  re- 
sounding, we  received  our  meagre  pageant, — a  pauper's 
shell  borne  by  four  paupers  from  the  workhouse, — and 
bestowed,  in  our  homely  phrase,  a  humble  brother  in  a 
lonely  churchyard  beside  a  moss-grown  porch.  At  the 
same  moment  the  same  service  was  performed  on  the  one 
spot  and  on  the  other  ;  the  same  hymn  was  uttered  ;  the 
same  Scripture  read ;  the  same  prayers  of  faith  and 
thankfulness  recited  ;  the  same  token  given  of  a  sure 
and  certain  hope  of  the  Eesurrection  to  Eternal  Life, 
when  the  sand  was  sprinkled  upon  either  coffin,  and 
earth  consigned  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust. 
Both  here  and  there  we  prayed  with  humble  devotion 
for  the  accomplishment  of  the  number  of  the  elect, 
the  hastening  of  God's  kingdom,  the  perfect  consumma- 
tion, both  in  body  and  soul,  of  All  that  have  departed 
in  the  true  faith  of  His  holy  name.  And  so  the  Hero 
and  the  Pauper  were  presented  together  by  the  Church 
to  their  Redeemer.  For  such  is  our  belief  in  Christ 
Jesus. 


LECTUEE    YIII. 

THE   NORTHERN   SENSE    OF    MALE    AND    FEMALE    EQUALITY. 

Galatians  iy.  4. 

But  when  the  fulness  of  time  was  come^  God  sent  forth  His  Son, 
made  of  a  icoman. 

In  bringing  these  lectures  to  a  conclusion,  I  may  be 
allowed  to  remind  you  of  the  chief  points  which  I  have 
sought  to  establish  in  them. 

My  object  was  in  the  first  place  to  point  out  the 
essential  difference  between  the  Pagan  and  the  Christian 
view  of  religion,  that  is,  of  man's  relation  to  God.  We 
marked  the  narrowness  of  the  view,  so  common  among 
the  societies  of  the  ancient  world,  which  confined  the 
range  of  divine  Providence  to  the  objects  of  this  life, 
disregarding  the  future  life  altogether ;  together  with  the 
results  which  flowed  directly  from  it,  the  national  preju- 
dices and  national  enmities  which  it  fostered.  But  the 
course  of  thought  and  self-inquiry,  even  among  the 
Pagans,  began,  as  we  saw,  in  time  to  modify  this  view,  to 
unsettle  the  grounds  of  this  conviction,  and  023en  the 
heart  to  wider  and  more  liberal  concei^tions  of  the  dignity 


EECAPITULATION.  151 

both  of  God  and  of  man.  Then  came  forth  the  Gospel 
of  Christ,  and  offered  still  wider  prospects,  established  on 
snrer  sanctions,  illustrated  by  the  lives  and  preaching  of 
men  divinely  gifted.  The  personal  covenant  of  man  with 
God,  the  future  life,  with  the  equal  share  of  all  men  in 
its  promises  and  its  threatenings,  through  an  act  of  re- 
demption common  to  all : — such  were  the  trnths  nnfolded 
foj.'  mankind's  acceptance.  The  tide  of  opinion  gathered 
in  their  favour;  but  it  advanced  slowly,  retarded  by 
fierce  passions  and  selfish  interests.  Nevertheless,  God 
was  with  it,  and  it  prevailed,  to  the  amazement  of  the 
believers  hardly  less  than  of  the  unbelievers.  The  Pagan 
cults  were  overthrowm,  the  Pagan  schools  were  converted 
and  transformed.  The  Church  of  Christ  triumphed  and 
became  the  Church,  the  acknowledged  teacher  and  spirit- 
ual mistress  of  the  civilized  world.  Long  engaged  en- 
tirely in  this  mortal  struggle,  combating  error,  dispelling 
ignorance,  subduing  prejudice,  she  had  had  little  oppor- 
tunity thus  far  of  settling  for  her  disciples  the  exact 
grounds  of  her  own  testimony,  the  precise  limits  of  her 
own  creed.  The  age  of  councils  and  symbols  followed  ; 
the  age  of  doctors  and  interpreters.  Athanasius  and  Au- 
gustine, with  their  learned  and  laborious  fellow-workers, 
crowned  the  work  of  the  early  Fathers.  But  the  materi- 
als with  which  the  Church  now  w^orked  w^ere  themselves, 
as  we  remarked,  earthly  and  corrupt :  society  was  de- 
crepit ;  mankind  had  fallen  into  old  age ;  the  seed  of  the 
ancient  civilization  was  worn  out,  and  ceased  to  produce 
its  fruit ;  the  vices  of  Paganism  again  spread  abroad  like 


152  LECTUEE   VIII. 

weeds,  aud  overran  the  divine  vineyard.  The  evil  spirit 
of  unbelief,  of  idolatry,  of  selfishness  and  impurity,  if  it 
had  been  once  expelled  from  the  heart,  seemed  again  to 
have  returned,  even  with  other  spirits  worse  than  itself, 
— worse,  as  the  corruption  of  the  best  is  ever  worst, — 
with  the  spirits  of  religious  pride,  of  fanaticism  and  hy- 
pocrisy. Then  God  appointed  a  fearful  trial  of  His 
Church  in  the  assault  of  the  E'orthern  barbarians  ;  in  a 
storm  of  savage  passions,  brutal  ignorance,  and  dark  su- 
perstitions. She  trembled,  she  despaired,  at  last  she 
prayed,  she  hoped,  she  rose  again  in  faith  and  spiritual 
strength  ; — she  awed  her  assailants  ;  she  converted  them ; 
she  made  them  her  own  children  by  adoption.  She 
spake  to  them  with  the  authority  she  had  received  of 
God ;  proclaimed  to  them  her  mission  as  the  spouse  of 
Christ,  the  beloved  and  trusted  of  her  Lord,  and  claimed 
their  obedience  to  herself  for  His  sake.  She  was  instinct 
with  the  Hope  with  which  He  had  imbued  her,  she 
proved  faithful  to  her  mission,  and  received  her  reward. 
And  then  she  set  herself  to  cherish  those  graces  of  char- 
acter in  her  new  disciples  which  were  fittest  to  lead  them 
to  her  teaching,  and  to  which  her  teaching  most  directly 
appealed.  Medieval  faith  approved  itself  in  its  most 
striking  and  characteristic  features  the  express  contra- 
diction of  Pagan  naturalism.  It  established  the  convic- 
tion of  Man's  personal  relation  to  God,  of  a  future  state 
and  a  future  retribution,  of  the  equality  of  all  men  in  the 
sight  of  Him  who  is  Himself  infinite  above  alL  In  as- 
serting and  grounding  these  principles  of  faith,  more 


PLEDGE   FOR   THE   PERMANENCE   OF   CHRISTIANITY.       153 

clearly,  more  generally,  more  endmiDglj'  than  ever 
before,  the  Church  of  the  Northern  nations,  the  Church 
of  the  middle  ages,  the  Church  of  spiritual  Eome,  finally 
triumphed.  The  world  was  now  converted  indeed ;  the 
Empire,  and  the  world  beyond  the  Empire,  issued  on  its 
career  of  Christian  development,  to  be  subjected  in  after 
times  to  other  trials,  and  but  too  certainly  to  other  cor- 
ruptions. But  Paganism — including  both  the  mytholo- 
gies and  the  philosophies  of  the  classical  world — as  a 
spiritual  creed  was  now  finally  abolished,  through  the 
special  fitness  of  the  E"orthern  nations  for  imbibing  the 
great  principles  of  Christian  Theology. 

Man's  personal  accountability  to  God, — the  future 
life  and  judgment, — the  covenant  of  God  in  Christ  wdth 
all  mankind  :  these  three  cardinal  truths  have  been  es- 
tablished by  the  teaching  of  the  Gospel  in  the  hearts  of 
the  nations  from  whom  we  are  descended,  wdiom  God 
called  out  of  the  deserts  to  receive  the  inheritance  of 
His  favour,  Avhich  the  ancients  had  disparaged  and  de- 
based. 

Such  are  the  points  to  which  your  attention  has  been 
hitherto  directed.  There  remains,  as  it  seems  to  me,  one 
further  point  to  be  considered,  on  which  I  shall  this  day 
address  you  :  What  pledge  and  security  can  we  find  in 
the  character  of  these  same  latest  converts  for  retaining 
permanently  the  impression  they  have  thus  through 
grace  received  ?  What  spirit  of  life  abides  in  them,  to 
maintain  the  lio-ht  which  has  been  once  shed  abroad  in 

o 

their  hearts  ? 


154  LECTURE   VIII. 

Sucli  a  pledge  and  sncli  a  spirit  I  discover  in  the 
considerations  to  whicli  tlie  text  is  calculated  to  lead 
us: — 

'  When  the  fulness  of  time  was  come,  God  sent  forth 
His  Son,  made  of  a  woman.' 

The  Scriptm-es  of  the  Old  Testament  opened  with  the 
divine  recognition  of  the  importance  of  the  woman  in 
the  economy  of  God's  spiritual  dispensations.  In  the 
development  of  our  spiritual  life,  in  our  training  for  a 
spiritual  future,  her  share  is  at  least  as  great  as  that  of 
the  man.  Her  part  in  the  Fall,  in  the  sin,  in  the  dis- 
obedience against  God,  in  the  denial  of  His  Providence 
and  Judgment,  have  been  as  great  at  least  as  that  of  the 
man.  She  stands  in  God's  first  revelation  of  His  love 
and  justice,  on  the  same  line  with  man  her  partner.  She 
was  placed  in  the  same  state  of  favour,  and  falls  under 
the  same  condemnation. — Again,  God's  second  dispen- 
sation opens  with  the  recognition  of  the  importance  of 
the  woman.  She  is  chosen  to  be  the  instrument  of  bless- 
ing. She  receives  the  honour,  which  is  above  all  hon- 
ours, of  becoming  the  channel  of  divine  grace,  as  she  had 
before  drawn  down  divine  retribution.  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Son  of  God,  takes  the  form  of  man  to  teach  and  preach 
and  suffer,  as  was  required  of  Him ;  but  He  takes  that 
form  through  the  woman  ;  and  thus  for  ever  seals  with 
the  most  glorious  and  irrefragable  sanction,  the  equality 
of  the  woman  with  the  man  in  God's  spiritual  economy. 
Henceforth  all  we  have  said  of  the  common  claims  of 
man  one  witli  another, — of  the  mercies  of  God — the  de- 


EQUALITY   OF   WOMAN   WITH   MAN.  155 

crees  of  God,  the  providences  of  God  being  extended 
equally  to  all  men,  ricli  and  poor,  bond  and  free,  Greek 
and  barbarian, — all  that  the  Gospel  proclaimed,  and  the 
temi^les  and  the  schools  denied  or  so  grudgingly  ad- 
mitted,— must  be  carried  out  to  their  full  extent,  and  ap- 
plied to  the  woman  also.  Eeason  and  logic  require  it. 
Do  not  onr  own  hearts  respond  to  the  appeal,  and  accept 
it  ?  Do  we  make  any  difficulty  in  acknowledging  the 
equality  of  the  woman  with  the  man  in  the  sight  of  the 
universal  Father  ?  of  the  Creator,  the  Kedeemer,  and  the 
Sanctifier  ?  Is  not  such  a  doctrine  generally  understood 
among  us  as  a  thing  of  course  ?  Who  dreams  of  ques- 
tioning it  ?  Do  w^e  not  rather  scorn  and  reprove  the  pre- 
tended revelations  of  heathenism,  w^hich  have  so  com- 
monly denied  or  disregarded  this  essential  equality,  and 
robbed  woman  of  her  crown  of  spiritual  glory  ? 

But  if  this  be  the  case,  let  us  ask  ourselves,  to  what 
do  we  owe  this  conviction  in  which  we  are  so  well 
agreed  ?  Do  not  leap  to  the  conclusion  that,  because  it 
seems  so  reasonable,  so  natural  to  us,  it  is  really  natural, 
and  grows  up  spontaneously  in  the  human  heart.  Xo  : 
we  require  to  be  led  to  it,  to  have  it  confirmed  and  sealed 
to  us  by  divine  teaching ;  we  have  drawn  it  from  a 
source  of  divine  inspiration,  we  have  maintained  it  by 
the  study  of  the  divine  Word.  It  seeks  to  make  a  lodg- 
ment in  'the  heart  that  has  been  prepared  and  opened 
for  it.  It  is  a  seed  wliich  will  hardly  ripen  wherever  it 
is  casually  dropped ;  the  soil  must  be  dug  for  it,  and  the 
germ  be  tended  and  w^atered.      And  then,  with  God's 


156  LECTUEE   Yin. 

blessing,  it  will  spring  up  and  flourish,  and  become  the 
joy  and  life  of  the  garden,  and  maintain  its  scent  and 
beauty  in  everlasting  freshness. 

Upon  the  spiritual  state  of  the  woman,  such  as  she 
was  regarded  under  the  highest  Pagan  culture,  I  need 
not  enlarge.  She  was  degraded  in  her  social  position  be- 
cause she  was  deemed  unworthy  of  moral  consideration  ; 
and  her  moral  consideration,  again,  fell  lower  and  lower, 
precisely  because  her  social  position  was  so  degraded. 
This  is  notoriously  the  judgment  of  history  upon  the  sub- 
ject. Most  painful  would  it  be,  most  revolting,  to  enter 
into  the  proofs  of  it.  But  this  we  may  remark  in  pass- 
ing, that,  if  we  can  trace,  as  I  have  already  allowed, 
some  slight  advance  of  man's  moral  consideration  under 
the  later  Paganism,  there  is  no  such  advance  perceptible 
in  the  moral  consideration  of  woman.  This  fleld  of  hu- 
man culture  still  remains,  I  think,  wholly  barren.  And 
accordingly  the  woman  seems  to  become  morally  worse, 
more  frivolous,  more  degraded.  The  highest  results  of 
Pagan  teaching  have  left  one-half  of  human  kind  untend- 
ed,  unexalted,  unadorned.  The  elevation  of  women  un- 
der the  Gospel  was  undoubtedly  a  new^  revelation  to  the 
Greeks  and  Eomans. 

But  nothing,  assuredly,  is  more  marked  and  signal 
than  this  elevation,  this  moral  advance,  of  w^oman  under 
the  Christian  covenant.  The  Saviour  of  man  is  Himself 
born  of  woman.  His  virgin  mother  is  pronounced 
blessed.  She  is  deemed  worthy  of  a  special  revelation. 
She  is  visited  by  an  angel.     She  receives  a  message  from 


157 


God.  Marj  is  a  second  Eve ;  more  highly  favoured,  and 
proved  by  her  faith  more  worthy  of  favom-.  And  from 
the  first  the  sex  receives  a  share  of  her  favour.  Tlae  in- 
spiration of  faith  shed  abroad  in  her  sonl  is  transfused 
into  her  companions, — the  companions  of  her  Son  also, — 
the  faithful  women  who  are  ever  found  most  attentive  in 
listening  to  Him,  most  patient  in  suffering  with  Him, 
most  constant  in  believing  Him,  most  ardent  in  expect- 
ing His  return.  The  apostles,  once  and  again,  waver, 
dispute  with  one  another,  flee  from  Him  and  deny  Him  ; 
but  the  women  never.  The  women  are  always  faithful, 
always  loving.  The  men  argue  with  Him  and  misdoubt 
Him ;  the  women  anoint  His  head  with  ointment,  and 
wash  His  feet  with  their  tears.  It  was  not  to  the  women 
that  He  said,  '  Could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ? ' 
— not  to  the  women  that  He  thought  it  fitting  to  exclaim, 
• '  Watch  and  pray  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation  1 ' 
Those  holy  women,  who  are  set  as  patterns  and  teachers 
to  their  sex,  received  from  Him  no  rebuke,  evinced,  as 
far  as  has  been  shown  to  us,  no  spiritual  weakness. 

And  firmly  on  the  Christian  conscience  has  ever  been 
impressed  the  example  of  their  piety.  It  has  sealed  the 
claim  of  woman  to  equal  consideration  before  God,  and 
therefore  to  common  consideration  with  man.  A  new 
cardinal  truth,  at  which  no  .believer  has  ever  cavilled, 
has  sunk  deep  into  the  human  soul.  By  the  spectacle 
and  the  study  of  the  love  and  faith,  the  patience  under 
tribulation,  the  constancy  in  good  works  of  the  Maries 
and  Martha  and  Dorcas  in  Scripture,  of  Monica  and 


158  LECTURE   VIII. 

Paiilla  and  so  many  others,  whose  names  are  treasured 
in  the  archives  of  the  Church,  the  views  of  mankind 
upon  the  rehations  of  man  to  woman  have  undergone  a 
silent  but  complete  revolution ;  and,  I  might  add,  a  new 
bias  has  been  given  to  the  history  of  mankind. 

The  part  which  Christian  women  bore  in  the  first 
diffusion  of  Christ's  truth  is  familiar  to  all  our  minds 
from  the  records  of  the  Gospels,  the  Acts,  and  the  Epis- 
tles. Every  book  of  the  l^ew  Testament  plainly  attests 
it.  The  place  of  the  holy  women  who  believed  is  fully 
recognized  throughout  Scripture ;  but  it  is  not  brought 
prominently  forward;  and  on  that  account  perhaps  it 
makes  the  deeper  impression  upon  us.  The  women  of 
the  Xew  Testament  take  their  i)roper  position  naturally, 
without  presumption,  without  reserve.  The  mother  of 
Jesus  is  the  type  and  pattern  of  them  all, — the  type  of 
true  female  piety,  loving,  trusting,  accepting,  realizing. 
She  receives  her  faith,  but  she  makes  it  her  own  in  re- 
ceiving it.  The  regard  of  our  Lord  Himself  for  the  ele- 
ment of  woman's  faith  in  His  little  Church  is  sufficiently 
marked.  His  preachers  acknowledge  it  with  gratitude, 
and  tender  kindly  greetings  to  the  female  members  of 
their  churches.  St.  Peter,  St.  Paul,  and  St.  James  ac- 
quaint them  with  their  functions,  and  lay  down  rules 
for  their  behaviour.  St.  John  addresses  an  E]3istle  to  a 
female  convert,  and  opens  to  the  preacher  a  new  prov- 
ince of  spiritual  direction. 

This,  it  may  be  said,  is  remarkable  only  from  the  con- 
trast it  presents  to  the  position  of  the  woman  at  the 


WOMAIs's    PLACE    IN   THE    EARLY    CHUKCH.  159 

same  time  among  the  lieatheii.  Proceed  in  the  history 
of  the  Chnrch  of  Christ,  and  the  contrast  will  become 
more  striking  still.  Scholars  know  how  small  was  the 
part  of  women  in  the  formation  and  maintenance  of 
moral  or  religions  opinion  among  the  Greeks  and  Ko- 
mans,  and  that  part  was  almost  wholly  evil.  Judaism, 
under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  boding  of  things 
to  come,  had  taken  undoubtedly  a  higher  and  worthier 
measure  of  their  spiritual  capacity,  and  trained  them  for 
their  inheritance  in  Christ.  The  holy  women  of  the 
'New  Testament  are  the  disciples  and  children  of  the 
holy  women  of  the  Old.  But  we  soon  discover  an  ad- 
vance in  their  type  of  holiness.  The  character  and  ob- 
ject of  spiritual  insight  has  advanced  in  women  as  well 
as  in  men.  Their  feelings  are  intensified  ;  their  piety, 
obedience,  resignation,  more  marked ;  their  hopes  and 
aspirations  more  definite ;  their  devotion  more  absorbing ; 
their  self-sacrifice  more  complete.  Tliey  are  received 
into  closer  communion  with  man,  their  fellow-worker, 
and  with  God,  the  author  and  finisher  of  their  faith. 
They  have  a  definite  place  in  the  Church  of  Christ,  a 
purpose,  a  mission.  They  are  become  necessary  to  re- 
ligion:  without  woman's  hand  and  heart,  the  ministry 
of  the  Gospel,  we  feel,  would  itself  be  maimed.  God 
looks  upon  them,  as  it  seems  to  us,  with  tenderer  love, 
and  prepares  choicer  blessings  for  them.  Man  at  least, 
as  we  see,  has  begun  to  think  more  highly  of  them ;  for 
to  their  memory  he  consecrates  more  solemn  and  con- 
vincing testimonies.     In  the  early  records  of  the  Church 


160  LECTURE   YIII. 

we  read,  from  page  to  page,  of  the  solid  work  done  foi 
her  by  women.     They  become  the  companions  of  the 
apostle  and  the  preacher ;  the  stay  and  comfort  of  the  op- 
pressed and  the  persecuted ;  the  sisters,  the  wives,  the 
mothers  of  the  Saints,  on  whom  the  glory  of  sanctity  is 
visibly  reflected.     They  receive  the  last  words  of  the  dy- 
ing martyr,  and  treasure  up  the  memory  of  liis  rapture,  till 
they  are  called  themselves  to  martyrdom,  and  respond 
triumphantly  to  the  summons.     We  feel,  now  first,  that 
their  souls  are  instinct  w^ith  the  same  life  as  ours  ;  their 
resj)onsibility  akin  to  ours ;  their  future  in  nowise  differ- 
ent.    Whatever  be  our  claims,  as  men,  on  Christ's  cov- 
enant, our  mothers  and  daughters  have  just  the  same, 
and  no  other.     They  have  loved  as  much,  they  have 
hoped  as  much,  they  have  believed  as  much :  nay,  more. 
What  mansion  in  heaven  can  be  closed  against  the  sisters 
of  the  disciples,  who  suffered  fire  and  steel  in  the  Pagan 
persecution  ?     Will  God  veil  His  love  and  glory  from  the 
spirit  of  the  sainted  mother,  who  by  prayers  and  agonies 
of  supplications  constrained  Him  to  convert  to  His  faith 
her  erring  son  Augustine  ?     The  labourer  is  worthy  of 
her  hire.     Tertullian,  Cyprian,  Origen,  Augustine,  the 
great  doctors  of  the  early  Church,  all  fully  recognize  the ' 
spiritual  equality  of  the  woman  with  the  man ;  all  tend 
to  exalt  her  to  a  spiritual  dignity  to  which  Greek  or  Ro- 
man, matron  or  virgin,  dared  not,  dreamed  not,  to  aspire. 
A  new  era  has  dawned  for  her.     One-half  of  human 
kind  has  been  almost  silently  advanced  to  a  participation 
in  the  dearest  gifts  of  God,  to  present  grace  and  future 


NEW  HEAYEXS  AND  A  NEW  EAETH.        161 

glory.     This  is  surely  the  reveiatiou  of  Xew  Heavens 
and  of  a  Kew  Earth ! 

Of  Xew  Heavens  !  for  it  is  the  revelation  of  God  in 
heaven  accepting  for  Christ's  merits  the  love,  and  faith, 
and  humble  devotion  of  her  who  believes  in  Him  whom 
she  has  not  seen,  accepts  from  the  heart  the  truth  even 
before  it  speaks  to  her  understanding,  serves  Him  in 
prayer  whom  she  may  not  serve  by  preaching. — Of  I^ew 
Heavens  !  l^ecause  it  is  the  revelation  of  a  future  place 
and  occupation  for  her  who  has  been  most  full  of  her 
Lord's   business   upon   earth, —  most   constant   in   good 
works,  and  most  abundant  in  good  thoughts  ; — of  a  bless- 
ed place  of  reunion  for  those  who  have  served  God  in 
holy  union  here,  the  man  and  the  woman,  whose  whole 
strength  in  their  spiritual  service  has  lain  in  their  mutual 
support  and  confidence  ;  whose  faith  and  service  would 
have  been  a  mockery  indeed,  if  death   and  the  grave 
could  finally  separate   them,   and   consign   the   one  to 
life  eternal,  the  other  to  nothingness. — Of  a  Kew  Earth ! 
for  it  is  the  revelation  of  a  state  of  equal  hopes  and 
mutual  aspirations  in  this  life ;  the  woman  being  made 
the   real  helpmate   and   the  partner   of  the  man ;  the 
strengthener  of  his  faith,  the  sanctifier  of  his  pleasures. — 
Of  a  !N^ew  Earth  !  for  it  is  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ 
his  Saviour,  looking  down  upon  him  with  Divine  love 
and  mercy,  and  bidding  him  press  the  loved  one  to  his 
heart,  as  one  who  may  be  surely  his  for  ever,  not  as  a 
fleeting  gift  of  this  world  only ;  not  as  a  loan,  but  a 
possession.     Then  see  how  this  revelation  has  been  ac- 
11 


162 


LECTURE   YIII. 


ceptecl  and  acknowledged.  See  tlie  silent  revolution  it 
lias  effected ;  mark  the  traces  of  that  simple  creed  of 
woman's  place  in  Eedemption.  From  the  recognition 
of  the  solemn  announcement  of  our  text,  '  God  sent  forth 
His  Son,  made  of  a  w^oman,'  has  flowed  the  establish- 
ment in  Christendom  of  woman's  social  position,  as  the 
mother  of  Christian  souls,  the  nurse,  the  guardian,  the 
instructress  of  their  tender  conscience.  Woman  has 
become  the  spiritual  mother  of  the  children  of  the 
Church.  To  her  we  intrust  the  training  of  their  hearts 
and  spirits.  We  believe  that  God  first  reveals  Him- 
self to  our  little  ones  throuarh  their  mothers.  From 
the  mother's  love  they  first  learn  to  love  Him ;  from 
the  mother's  truth  they  first  learn  to  believe  in  Him  ; 
from  the  mother's  prayers  they  first  learn  to  worship 
Him. 

But  to  this  position  woman  has  been  advanced 
mainly  by  the  religious  instinct  of  ]N^orthern  Christianity. 
You  have  read,  I  doubt  not,  of  old,  how  among  the 
ancient  German  races  their  w^omen  were  held  in  esteem 
and  honour,  such  as  shamed  the  corrupt  and  morbid 
civilization  of  the  Eomans.  The  woman  was  the  asso- 
ciate of  the  man  in  all  his  gravest  concerns.  He  guarded 
her  purity,  he  defended  her  honour ;  in  return  she 
cherished  his  manly  virtues,  soothed  his  cares,  attended 
him  to  the  verge  of  the  battle-field,  received  him  re- 
turning from  it,  unloosed  his  armour,  and  staunched  his 
wounds.  But  neither  did  he  enter  into  quarrel  wdth  his 
adversary  till  first  he  had  taken  counsel  of  her,  had  de- 


163 


ferrecl  to  lier  judgment,  and  inquired  of  tlie  divine  instinct 
whicli  he  believed  to  reside  in  her,  to  which  he  ascribed 
a  mysterious  sympathy  with  the  future.  She  was  his 
mistress,  his  priestess,  his  prophetess.  She  was  the  fonn- 
tain  of  his  rehgious  life  and  spirit.  She  was  the  angel  or 
messenger  of  God  to  him.  Of  the  origin  of  this  romantic 
sentiment,  which  flowered  in  medieval  chivalry,  and  im- 
parted a  colonr  to  medieval  religion,  there  is,  I  suppose, 
no  account  to  be  given :  that  it  should  have  lodged  itself 
among  tribes  so  fierce  and  rude,  man-hunters  and  man- 
slayers  as  they  were,  must  be  a  riddle  to  us  as  it  was  to 
those  who  first  remarked  it.  But  it  was  plainly  connect- 
ed with  the  feelings  we  have  already  discovered  among 
them,  which  led  them  so  promptly  to  Christianity  ; — to 
their  deep  consciousness  of  the  divine  and  spiritual ;  to 
their  sense  of  responsibility  to  God,  of  judgment  and  of 
a  future  life.  It  was  a  strong  religious  instinct  wJiich 
courted  the  mysteries  of  the  unseen,  and  sought  earnest- 
ly for  the  means  of  communion  with  it.  And  if  it 
led  so  directly  to  the  acceptance  of  the  Gospel  teach- 
ing, we  shall  not  err  in  ascribing  it  to  a  special  provi- 
dence, shaping  its  means  in  silence  to  its  far-off  pur- 
poses.' 

This  revelation  of  woman's  part  in  the  divine  econo- 
my,— plainly  written  in  the  Gospel, — preached  by  the 
early  Church,  but  sealed  more  definitely  by  its  full  ac- 
ceptance in  later  ages, — has  become  the  surest  earthly 
pledge  of  the  permanence  of  the  Christian  faith  among 

^  Notes  and  Illustrations  (0). 


164:  LECTURE   YIII. 

US.     It  has  interested  in  religion  tlie  second  half  of  God's 
Immaii  creation  ;  the  half  which  under  no  other  disi3en- 
sation  was  admitted  to  equal  hopes  and  interests  with 
man.      It  fills  the  courts  of  the  Lord's   service  with 
another  and  a  greater  multitudcj  with  worshippers  more 
willing,  more  devout,  more  sensitive  as  well  as  more 
numerous.     It  does  more,  much  more  than  this.     It  at- 
taches to  the  teaching  and  preaching  of  the  Faith  the 
sex  to  wdiich,  limit  as  we  may  its  public  ministrations, 
the  private  domestic  training  of  every  generation  must 
ever  be  mainly  confided.     More  than  .this,  again ;  Chris- 
tianity is  a  moral  training,  it  is  a  faith  shown  forth  in 
practice ;  and  it  is  from  the  purity  and  usefulness  of 
women  that  we  all  learn  the  first  principles  of  moral 
duty,  by  which  our  faith  is  to  be  hereafter  approved. 
The  divorce  of  mothers  from  the  moral  training  of  their 
children  was  an  inherent  weakness  of  Paganism,  which 
made  it  fall  and  collapse  in  the  presence  of  the  Chris- 
tians,— of  men  brought  up  themselves  by  holy  women  in 
the  fear  and  nurture  of  the  Lord.     It  would  seem,  then, 
that  the  admission  of  woman  to  a  full  participation  in  the 
rights  and  duties  of  religion  becomes  a  pledge  of  the 
future  maintenance  and  transmission  of  its  truths.     God 
has  not  disdained,  we  may  say,  to  gain  Himself  human 
support.     The  love  and  mercy  of  the  Eevealer  secure 
the  triumph  of  His  Eevelation.     Woman  has  the  will — 
and  has  she  not  the  power  ? — to  keep  this  sacred  deposit 
for  ever.     It  is  her  charter,  her  title,  her  security.     It  is 
her  pride  in  this  life,  as  it  is  her  consolation  in  respect 


WOMA]^   AN    ELEMENT    OF   KELIGIOUS    LIFE.  165 

of  another.  She  will  not  abandon  it  herself;  no  man 
shall  take  it  from  her.  If  she  lose  it,  where  shall  she 
look  for  an  equal  consideration  elsewhere  ?  How  long 
will  the  unbelieving  man  share  with  the  woman  his 
spiritual  aspirations,  whatever  they  may  be  ?  Con- 
strained by  God's  revealed  word,  he  makes  her  the 
partner  of  his  hopes,  and  rejoices  in  the  constraint :  but 
of  this  she  may  be  very  sure ; — we  see  tokens  of  it  every- 
where beyond  the  pale  of  Christian  belief; — that  if  man 
denies  Christianity  he  will  straightway  deny  the  spiritual 
claims  of  woman.  For  so  he  did  in  antiquity :  so  do 
perhaps  all  existing  heathenisms :  so  threaten  to  do  all 
modern  unbelief  and  scepticism. 

The  man  then  and  the  woman  have  the  same  interest 
in  the  Gospel :  they  have  moreover  the  same  stake  in 
maintaining  the  belief  in  it.  To  the  woman  its  denial 
would  be  at  once  a  fall  from  the  consideration  she  now 
holds  among  us,  in  virtue  of  Christ's  descent  from  the 
Virgin  Mother,  as  heir  of  an  equal  future  with  ourselves. 
She  would  descend  again  to  be  a  mere  plaything  of 
the  man,  the  transient  companion  of  his  leisure  here,  to 
be  held  loosely  as  the  chance  gift  of  a  capricious  fortune  : 
or,  to  adopt  the  figure  of  an  old  heathen  poet,  she  would 
be  but  the  sauce  or  side-dish  of  nature's  great  repast.  To 
the  man  the  loss  would  be  as  great,  perhaps  greater  even 
than  this.  It  would  destroy  the  very  charm  of  this  life, 
— a  partnership  in  real  joys,  real  cares,  real  hopes  and 
mterests.  It  w^ould  damp  his  glowing  prospects  of  a 
common  future  w^ith  the  object  of  his  love ;  it  would  un- 


166  LECTURE   YIII. 

settle  his  belief  even  in  tlie  common  future  of  men  ;  and 
again  steep  liim  in  the  perplexities  of  the  heathen  regard- 
ing a  future  ]3ersonal  to  himself  It  would  shake  the 
verj  foundations  of  religion, — dislocate  the  bands  of  mor- 
al duty,  which  are  now  straitened  by  our  early  training 
under  spiritual  and  believing  women.  To  root  out 
Christianity  among  us,  and  thereby  destroy  tlie  spiritual 
Lopes  and  interests  of  women,  would  be  to  abolish  our 
surest  pledges  for  holiness  and  righteousness  upon  earth. 
For  the  woman,  as  our  earliest  teacher  and  trainer,  is  the 
binding  element  of  moral  and  religious  life  among  us. 
The  systems  of  the  philosophers,  as  was  said  of  one  of 
the  cleverest  and  most  elocpent  amoug  them,  are  merely 
sand  without  lime. 

But  before  we  part,  one  word  of  warning.  While 
the  promises  to  the  two  sexes  are  equal,  their  hopes  iden- 
tical, each  has  its  own  part  to  play  in  the  advancement 
of  the  Truth  which  is  so  vital  to  it.  Each  is  a  help  meet 
for  the  other  :  each  has  its  proper  sphere  of  action,  its  own 
responsibility,  in  harmony  one  with  the  other.  '  ISTeither 
is  the  man  w^ithout  the  woman,  neither  the  woman  with- 
out the  man,  in  the  Lord.'  ^  The  woman  is  impulsive 
and  imaginative  in  her  belief:  the  man  inquires  and 
seeks  to  understand.  When  these  two  elements  are  duly 
mingled  and  attempered,  belief  is  sound  and  religion  is 
sanctified :  when  they  are  confused,  God's  work  in  the 
heart  is  blurred  by  superstition  on  the  one  side  and  scep- 
ticism on  the  other. 

^  1  Cor.  xi.  11. 


FASCLNATIONS   OF   FEMALE   PIETY.  167 

We  may  trace,  I  think,  miicli  of  tlie  corrnption  of  the 
Church  in  the  fifth  centnry,  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking,  to  the  disturbance  of  this  equilibrium  by  the 
impetuous  zeal,  the  passionate  fanaticism,  of  the  women. 
It  was  soothing,  no  doubt,  to  the  vanity  of  the  great 
doctors  of  the  Church, — great  as  they  surely  were, — to 
be  thronged  by  these  sensitive  and  enthusiastic  disciples ; 
to  become  their  chosen  pastors,  their  confessors,  tlie  guar- 
dians of  their  faith  and  hopes ;  to  be  courted  by  them 
for  their  learning,  caressed  for  their  eloquence;  to  be 
urged  to  correspond  with  them  on  religious  topics,  ap- 
pealed to  in  doubts,  relied  on  in  perplexities,  surrounded 
in  their  ardent  imaginations  with  a  halo  of  supernatural 
graces.  All  this  we  discover  ah-eady  in  the  Church  of 
the  Nicene  period,  in  tlie  Church  of  Chrysostom,  Augus- 
tine, and  Jerome.  It  was  then,  as  it  has  been  often  since, 
the  bane  of  sound  and  sober  religion.  The  letters  of  St. 
Jerome  to  his  discij)les  Paulla  and  Fabiola,  repeat  the 
familiar  story  of  the  spiritual  influence  of  man's  strength 
upon  the  weakness  of  woman,  and  again  of  the  reaction 
of  woman's  sensibility  on  the  harder  fibre  of  man's  un- 
derstanding. We  may  be  sure  that  wherever  man  leaves 
the  use  of  reason  and  argument,  which  are  his  proper 
province,  in  the  work  of  the  Gospel,  and  seeks  to  direct 
and  govern  the  weaker  devotee  through  her  feelings,  her 
imagination,  her  impulses  easily  excited  and  inflamed, 
the  perversion  of  his  gifts  will  react  again  upon  himself, 
and  upon  the  Church  of  which  he  is  constituted  the  ora- 
cle.    The  superstitions  which  stole  over  the  fiiir  face  of 


1.68  LECTURE  vm. 

the  early  Cliiircli  were  due,  it  would  seem,  mainly  to  tlie 
fascinations  of  female  piety  thus  exerted  upon  the  men 
who  themselves  had  flattered,  fostered,  and  exaggerated 
it.  And  this  perversion  is  ever  from  time  to  time  re- 
peated. Such  is  the  movement  we  remark  and  deplore 
as  rife  at  this  day  among  ourselves, — the  tendency  of 
many  among  us  to  pay  court  to  the  facile  piety  of  women, 
to  play  upon  their  weaknesses,  to  indulge  and  pamper 
their  devotional  impulses,  to  colour  or  distort  the  truth, 
still  more,  to  alarm  them  witli  shadows,  to  amuse  them 
with  unrealities.  Sucli  is  the  career  of  the  most  restless, 
the  most  notorious,  the  most  successful,  if  the  issue  may 
be  called  success,  of  the  emissaries  of  Popery  in  our  bor- 
ders. It  is  the  artifice  of  deceivers  self-deceived,  of 
tempters  self-entangled;  of  weak  and  womanish  men, 
the  dupes  of  their  own  flattery,  the  victims  of  their  own 
frivolous  devices,  the  captives  of  their  own  spear  and 
their  own  sword.  We  hear  them  boast  of  their  Paullas 
and  their  Fabiolas ;  of  the  converts  they  have  ipade  ;  of 
the  influence  they  have  acquired  ;  of  their  hopes  for  the 
future,  in  thus  gaining  to  their  side  the  mothers  of  tlie 
coming  generation,  the  women  who  shall  mould  the  soft- 
ness of  our  children,  who  shall  nourish  the  Church  that 
is  to  be.  But  whatever  tlieir  triumphs  now,  have  they 
regarded  the  inevitable  consequence  from  day  to  day  ; 
the  perversion  of  tlieir  own  faith,  the  enervation  of  their 
understanding ;  how  vain  fancies  and  gross  superstitions 
will  thicken  around  them  ;  how  their  creed  thus  flung  at 
the  feet  of  sensitive  and  passionate  women,  w^ll  lose  its 


169 


hold  on  the  men  who  persistently  think  and  reason  ?  If, 
as  I  believe,  the  progress  of  false  doctrine  in  the  early 
Church,  the  invocation  of  saints,  the  worship  of  relics, 
veneration  for  mere  shows  and  shadows  of  truth,  exalta- 
tion of  fanciful,  eccentric,  and  pernicious  practices  ; — if 
all  this  which  still  embarrasses  us,  who  cling  to  the  con- 
tinuity of  the  faith,  and  the  mission  of  the  Church  from 
the  beginning,  may  be  truly  imputed  to  the  bowing  of 
strength  to  weakness,  of  reason  to  imagination  of  old ; — 
so  do  we  not  behold  now,  in  our  own  day,  at  our  own 
door,  the  same  evil  principle  at  work, — the  same  moral 
law,  the  same  Divine  retribution, — in  the  recent  eleva- 
tion to  the  place  of  accepted  dogma  of  the  most  extrava- 
gant of  human  inventions,  through  the  same  fatal  influ- 
ence of  female  superstition  carrying  away  the  very  men 
who  had  flattered  it  and  exulted  in  it  ?  Their  sin  has 
found  them  out.  They  have  been  given  over  to  believe 
a  lie ;  and,  surely  such  a  doom  would  not  have  been  de- 
creed them,  were  they  not  themselves  responsible  for  it. 
God,  we  read  in  the  simple  words  of  Scripture,  sent  His 
Son  into  the  world,  made  of  a  woman.  This  is  the  char- 
ter of  woman's  redemption,  that  the  man  Christ  was  born 
into  the  world  of  woman.  This  is  the  pledge  of  woman's 
ecpiality  with  man,  of  the  common  equality  of  all  human- 
kind in  the  sight  of  the  Just  One  and  the  Holy  One. 
And  as  such  it  has  been  accepted  and  cherished  by  man 
and  by  woman.  It  stands  as  the  test  and  token  of  a  gen- 
uine revelation.  It  puts  to  shame  mythologies  and 
philosophies,  and  brands   the  civilization  of  old   as  a 


lYO  LECTUEE   Vm. 

mockery,  a  delusion,  and  a  snare.  It  responded  as  we 
have  seen,  marvellously  to  the  instincts  of  the  Northern 
nations ;  it  speeded  their  conversion,  it  tempered,  exalt- 
ed, and  purified  them  when  converted.  It  has  produced 
an  army  of  saints  and  martyrs ;  it  has  leavened  Christen- 
dom with  a  fruitful  seed  of  holiness ;  it  has  perpetuated 
the  faith  by  the  mouths  of  maids  and  wives  and  mothers. 
It  has  been  a  golden  thread  running  from  age  to  age 
through  the  history  of  Christianity.  And  it  seems  to 
bear  within  itself  the  very  principle  of  perpetuity.  We 
can  hardly  imagine  that  the  hopes  and  aspirations  it  en- 
genders in  one-half  of  our  kind,  and  justifies  in  the  other, 
can  ever  be  surrendered  by  either. 

But  if  this  text,  and  others  like  it,  simple,  plain,  and 
limited  as  they  are,  shall  be  expanded  by  a  human  pro- 
cess of  so-called  development — that  is  of  fiction — and  the 
blessed  but  humble  mother  of  Jesus  Christ  be  exagger- 
ated into  a  divinity ;  if  the  masculine  Church  of  the 
apostles  shall  be  moulded  to  the  imaginations  of  female 
votaries ;  if  the  men,  to  whom  the  power  of  preaching 
and  teaching  is  given  in  it,  shall  surrender  their  preroga- 
tive of  thought,  and  reasoning,  and  criticism,  to  gain 
themselves  a  false  and  hollow  reputation,  by  working 
upon  female  impulses  and  fancies — and  of  this  there  is 
danger  elsewhere  than  at  Eome ; — then  the  Church  whicli 
builds  on  such  foundation  will  lose  as  rapidly  as  it  will 
gain ;  if  the  women  enter  in  at  the  one  door,  the  men 
will  go  out  at  the  other. 


NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS, 


NOTES  AKD  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Note  A.     Page  47. 

It  can  hardly  be  necessary  to  enter  into  i^roofs  or  illustrations 
of  the  characteristic  differences  I  have  marked  in  the  views  and 
positions  of  the  great  leaders  of  Christian  theology  in  the  second 
and  thii'd  century.  The  mutual  bearing  and  relation  of  the 
schools  of  Justin  Martyr  and  Clement  of  Alexandria,  of  Tertullian 
and  Origen,  are  well  known  and  appreciated  among  the  students 
of  patristic  literature.  It  is  due,  however,  to  M.  de  Pressense  to 
acknowledge  that  I  have  perhaps  nowhere  seen  them  so  well  com- 
pared or  contrasted  as  in  his  Histoire  des  Trois  Premiers  Siecles,  of 
which  I  have  made  much  use  in  putting  my  first  two  lectures  into 
shape, 

Note  B.    Page  64. 

That  Arianism  was  a  real  and  powerful  ally  of  Paganism  in 
the  controversies  of  the  fourth  century  has  been  fully  recognized 
by  theologians.  The  similar  tendency  of  the  Pelagian  doctrine 
has  been  put  in  a  striking  light  by  M.  de  Pressense,  while  he  ad- 
mits that  the  theory  with  which  St.  Augustine  confronted  it  had 
its  roots  in  Paganism  also.  See  a  lecture,  or  Seance  Mstorique  as 
he  prefers  to  call  it,  published  along  with  some  others,  by  various 


171  NOTES    AND   ILLUSTEATIONS. 

authors,  in  a  little  volume  to  wliicli  is  given  the  title  of  Le  Ghris- 
tianisme  au  Quatrieme  Siecle  (Geneve,  1858),  p.  325  : — 

'  Si  nous  considSrons  avant  le  cliristianisme  et  en  dehors  du  ju- 
da'isme  qui  I'a  prepare,  les  religions  essay^es  par  I'humanite,  nous 
reconnaitrons  qu'elles  se  divisent  en  deux  grandes  categories  :  les 
religions  de  I'Orient  et  les  religions  de  I'Occident.  Apres  avoir 
debuts  les  unes  et  les  autres  par  un  naturalisme  grossier,  a  la  fois 
voluptueux  et  cruel,  elles  sc  sont  separSes  et  distingu6es  profondS- 
ment  dans  leur  dSveloppement  ulterieur.  L'Orient  a  supprim6 
I'element  humain  dans  le  problbme  religieux,  tandis  que  I'Occi- 
dent, la  Gr^ce  surtout,  Ta  releve  outre  mesure.  Le  contraste  entre 
le  brahmanisme  et  Thellenisme  est  frappant.  D'un  cotg  I'humanitS 
est  auSantie,  foulSe  au  jDied,  prScipitSe  dans  I'abime  de  la  vie  di- 
vine, aussi  bien  j)ar  I'ascetisme  que  par  Textase.  La  divinite  seule 
a  une  vip  a;  elle ;  tons  ^tres  particuliers  qui  sont  sortis  de  son  sein 
doivent  se  hater  d'y  rentrer  et  d'y  disparaitre.  D'un  autre  cot§, 
au  contraire,  c'est  la  divinite  qui  s'evanouit,  I'humanite  est  mise 
sur  I'autel ;  elle  est  ador6e,  encensSe ;  les  artistes  taillent  le  mar- 
bre  pour  reprSsenter  son  image,  les  pontes  s'accordent  leur  lyre 
130ur  la  chanter.     C'est  elle  qu'on  adore  sur  les  autels  d'Olympe, 

et  le  Dieu  sui^r^me  de  la  Grfece  est  un  hgros  divinisg 

L'Orient  a  supprimS  I'homme ;  I'Occident  a  supprim6  Dieu  :  il  u'y 

a  pas  eu  pgngtration  des  deux  Elements La  grande 

originalitS  du  christianisme  est  precisSment  d'avoir  retabli  la  rela- 
tion normale  entre  I'humanite  et  la  divinity.  II  est  la  religion  de 
Vhomme-Bieu^  et  la  personne  m^me  de  son  fondateur  est  la  solution 

effective  du  problfeme  religieux Cette  iD^ngtration  de 

I'element  humain  et  de  I'element  divin  qui  nous  fraj)pe  dans  la 
personne  du  Christ,  ne  nous  parait  pas  moins  admirable  dans  toute 
I'economie  de  la  doctrine  chretienne.  L'Evaugile,  qui  est  la  re- 
ligion de  I'homme-Dieu,  est  aussi  la  religion  de  la  grace  et  de  la 
liberty.  II  les  suppose  sans  cesse  I'une  et  I'autre;  il  les  affirme 
avec  une  Sgale  autorite.     ....    Notre  meilleure  joie  n'est- 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTEATIONS.  1  i  i> 

elle  pas  de  sentir  que  rErangile  est  cl'accord  avec  la  conscience  et 
qu'ainsi  notre  adhesion  a  un  caract^re  moral  qui  la  rend  legitime  ? 
II  convenait  que  la  religion  de  I'liomme-Dieu  pr^sentat  cette  liarmo- 
nie  entre  le  coeur  liumain  et  sa  doctrine.  Malheureusement  la  di- 
vine synthase  rSalisee  par  elle  s'est  brisee ;  Texclusivisme  oriental 
et  Texclusiyisme  occidental  ont  reparu.  Je  retrouve  dans  le  p^la- 
gianisme  et  Taugustinisme  un  retour  des  deux  grandes  religions 
de  Tancieu  monde le  p^lagianisme,  c'est  I'liellenisme. 

.  .  .  d'un  autre  cotg  I'augustinisme,  malgre  tons  ses  grands 
Cotgs  et  malgrg  son  gvidente  superiority,  n'a-t-il  pas  quelque  peu 
subi  I'ascendant  de  la  th6osopliie  orientale  ?  Augustin,  n'a-t-il 
pas,  sans  le  savoir,  conserve  quelques  souvenirs  de  ses  anciennes 
erreurs?  La  suppression  totale  de  la  liberty  n'est-elle  pas  un 
angantissement  de  I'^l^ment  liumain?  Sa  notion  philosopliique 
du  mal  nous  parait  tres-positivement  orientale.' 

The  contrast  here  presented  between  the  great  tendencies  of 
thought  in  the  East  and  West  is  interesting  and  impressive.  But 
it  is  well  to  bear  in  mind  with  'Mr.  Mozley,  in  his  very  careful  and 
thoughtful  review  of  the  Augustinian  doctrine  of  i^redestination, 
that  the  same  two  tendencies  do,  for  the  most  part,  actually  coex- 
ist in  the  minds  of  most  of  us,  which  it  is  the  duty  of  every  one 
to  balance  and  harmonize.  I  would  direct  the  reader's  attention 
to  the  following  passages  : — 

Augiistiman  Doctrine  of  Predestination.,  i.  p.  29  : — 

'  The  two  ideas  of  the  Divine  Power  and  Freewill  are,  in  short, 
"two  great  tendencies  of  thought,  inherent  in  our  minds,  which 
contradict  each  other,  and  can  never  be  united  or  brought  to  a 
common  goal;  and  which,  therefore,  inasmuch  as  the  essential 
condition  of  absolute  truth  is  consistency  with  other  truth,  can 
never,  in  the  present  state  of  our  faculties,  become  absolute  truths, 
but  must  remain  for  ever  contradictory  tendencies  of  thought, 
going  on  side  by  side  till  they  are  lost  sight  of  and  disappear  in 
the  haze  of  our  conceptions,  like  two  parallel  straight  lines  which 


176  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTEATIOXS. 

go  on  to  infinity  without  meeting.  While  they  are  sufficiently 
clear,  then,  for  all  puq^oses  of  practical  religion  (for  we  cannot 
doubt  that  they  are  truths  so  far  as  and  in  that  mode  in  which  we 
apprehend  them),  these  are  truths  upon  which  we  cannot  raise 
definite  and  absolute  systems.  All  that  we  build  upon  either  of 
them  must  j)artake  of  the  imperfect  nature  of  the  premiss  which 
supports  it,  and  be  held  under  a  reserve  of  consistency  with  a 
counter  conclusion  from  the  opposite  truth.' 

ii.  p.  48.  '  The  sense  or  feeling,  then,  of  Predestination  is,  as 
has  been  shown,  both  sanctioned  and  encouraged  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament. But  while  this  is  plain,  it  is  also  obvious  that  this  is  only 
one  side  of  the  language  of  the  New  Testament.  There  is  another, 
according  to  which  all  Christians,  whatever  be  their  holiness,  are 
represented  and  addressed  as  uncertain,  and  feeling  themselves 
uncertain,  of  final  salvation.  They  are  exhorted  to  "  work  out 
their  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling  ;  "  to  "  give  diligence 
to  make  their  calling  and  election  sure ; "  and  St.  Paul  himself, 
the  great  preacher  of  predestination,  who,  if  any,  had  the  right 
to  feel  himself  ordained  to  eternal  life,  and  who  said  that  there 
"  was  laid  up  for  him  a  crown  of  righteousness,"  also  tells  us  of 
his  careful  self-discipline,  "  lest  that  by  any  means  when  he  had 
preached  to  others,  he  himself  should  be  a  cast-away."  Indeed, 
to  any  one  who  will  fairly  examine  the  nature  of  this  feeling  of 
destiny  which  we  have  been  considering,  and  how  far  and  in 
what  mode  it  is  entertained  rationally,  it  will  be  evident  that  it  is 
not  by  any  means  an  absolute  or  literal  certainty  of  mind.  It  is- 
not  like  the  j)erception  of  an  intellectual  truth.  It  is  only  a 
strong  impression,  which,  however  genuine  and  rational,  and,  as 
we  may  say,  authorized,  issues,  when  we  try  to  follow  it,  in  ob- 
scurity, and  vanishes  in  the  haze  which  bounds  our  mental  view, 
before  the  reason  can  overtake  it.  Were  any  of  those  remarkable 
men  who  have  had  it  asked  about  this  feeling  of  theirs,  they 
would  confess  it  was  in  them  no  absolute  perception,  but  an  im- 


NOTES    AND   ILLrSTKATIONS.  1T7 

pression  which  was  consistent  with  a  counter  feeling  of  doubt,  and 
was  accompanied  by  this  latent  and  suppressed  opposite  in  their  case. 

'  Whether  regarded,  then,  as  a  doctrine  or  a  feeling,  predesti- 
nation is  not  in  Scripture  an  absolute  but  an  indefinite  truth. 
Scripture  has,  as  a  whole,  no  consistent  scheme,  and  makes  no 
positive  assertion ;  it  only  declares,  and  bids  its  readers  acknowl- 
edge, a  mysteiy  on  this  subject.  It  sets  forth  alike  the  Divine 
power  and  man's  freewill,  and  teaches,  in- that  way  in  which  alone 
it  can  be  taught,  the  whole,  and  not  a  part  alone,  of  truth.' 

iii.  ID.  155.  '  The  characteristic  of  St.  Augustine's  doctrine  [of 
Predestination],  compared  with  the  scriptural  one,  is,  that  it  is  a 
definite  and  absolute  doctrine.  Scripture,  as  a  whole,  as  has  been 
said,  only  informs  us  of  a  mystery  on  the  subject ;  that  is  to  say, 
while  it  informs  us  that  there  is  a  truth  on  the  subject,  it  makes 
no  consistent  statement  of  it,  but  asserts  contrary  truths,  counter- 
balancing those  passages  which  convey  the  predestinarian  doctrine 
by  passages  as  plain  the  other  way ;  but  St.  Augustine  makes  pre- 
destinarian statements  and  does  not  balance  them  by  contrary 
ones, — rather  he  endeavours  to  exi)lain  away  those  contrary  state- 
ments of  Scripture.  Thus  he  evades  the  natural  force  of  the  text 
that  "  God  would  have  all  men  to  be  saved,"  by  supposing  that  it 
only  means  that  no  man  is  saved  except  through  the  will  of  God, 
or  that  "  all "  means  not  all  men,  but  some  out  of  all  classes  and 
ranks  of  men 

'  St.  Augustine  then  takes  that  further  step  which  Scripture 
avoids  taking,  and  asserts  a  determinate  doctrine  of  predestina- 
tion  But  there  is  no  reason  why  Sciipture  should  not 

designedly  limit  itself,  and  stop  short  of  expressing  definite  truths ; 

though  whether  it  does  so  or  not  is  a  question  of  fact 

If  Eevelatiou  as  a  whole  does  not  speak  explicitly,  Revelation  did 
not  intend  to  do  so  ;  and  to  impose  a  definite  truth  upon  it  when 
it  designedly  stops  short  of  one,  is  as  real  an  error  of  interpretation 
as  to  deny  a  truth  which  it  expresses.' 
12 


i-ib  NOTES    A^^D    ILLUSTKATIONS. 

iv.  13.  326.  '  Ujjon  this  abstract  idea  of  the  Divine  Power  as  au 
unlimited  Power,  rose  up  the  Augustinian  doctrine  of  Predestina- 
tion and  Grace ;  while  upon  the  abstract  idea  of  Freewill,  as  an 
unlimited  tiiculty,  rose  up  the  Pelagian  theory.  Had  men  per- 
ceived, indeed,  more  clearly  and  really  than  they  have  done,  their 
ignorance  as  human  creatures,  and  the  relation  in  which  the  human 
reason  stands  to  the  great  truths  involved  in  this  question,  they 
might  have  saved  themselves  the  trouble  of  this  controversy. 
They  would  have  felt  that  this  question  cannot  be  determined 
absolutely  one  way  or  the  other ;  that  it  lies  between  two  great 
contradictory  truths,  neither  of  which  can  be  set  aside  or  made  to 
give  w^ay  to  the  other ;  two  opposing  tendencies  of  thought, 
inherent  in  the  human  mind,  wdiicli  go  on  side  by  side,  and  are 
able  to  be  held  and  maintained  together  although  thus  opjDOsite 
to  each  other,  because  they  are  only  incipient  and  not  final  and 
complete  truths, — the  great  truths,  I  mean,  of  the  Divine  Power 
on  the  one  side,  and  man's  freewill,  or  his  originality  as  an  agent,  on 
the  other.  And  this  is,  in  fact,  the  mode  in  which  this  question 
is  settled  by  the  practical  common  sense  of  mankind,     .     .     . 

'  The  Pelagian  and  Augustinian  systems  are  thus  both  in  fault, 
as  arising  upon  narrow,  partial,  and  exclusive  bases.  But  while 
both  systems  are  at  fault,  they  are  at  fault  in  very  different  degrees 
and  manners  ;  and  while  the  Augustinian  is  only  guilty  of  excess 
in  carrying  out  certain  religious  ideas,  the  Pelagian  offends  against 
the  very  first  principles  of  religion,  and  places  itself  outside  of  the 
great  religious  ideas  and  instincts  of  the  human  race.     .     .     . 

'  The  predestinarian  passes  over  the  incomplete  perception  we 
have  of  our  originality  as  agents,  because  his  mind  is  preoccupied 
with  a  rival  truth.  But  this  cannot  in  itself  be  called  an  offence 
against  i)iety ;  rather  it  is  occasioned  by  a  well-intended  though 
excessive  regard  to  a  great  maxim  of  piety.  He  is  unreasonably 
jealous  for  the  Divine  attribute,  and  afraid  that  any  original 
power  assigned  to  man  will  endanger  the  Divine.     He  thus  allows 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTEATIONS.  1  T9 

the  will  of  man  no  original  part  in  good  action ;  lie  throws  all 
goodness  back  upon  the  Deity,  as  the  sole  Source  and  Creator  of 
it,  forming  and  fashioning  the  human  soul  as  the  potter  moulds 
the  clay.  It  may  be  said,  indeed,  that  his  doctrine,  in  attributing 
injustice  to  the  Deity,  is  inconsistent  with  i)iety ;  but  he  does  not 
attribute  injustice  to  the  Deity,  but  only  a  mode  of  acting  which, 
as  conceived  and  understood  by  us,  is  unjust,  or  which  we  cannot 
explain  in  consistency  with  justice. 

'  Pelagianism,  on  the  other  hand,  offends  against  the  first  prin- 
ciples of  piety,  and  opposes  the  great  religious  instincts  and  ideas 

of  mankind The  doctrine  of  the  Fall,  the  doctrine 

of  Grace,  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement,  are  founded  on  the 

instincts  of  mankind These  are  religious  feelings  and 

instincts  belonging  to  human  nature,  and  which  can  never  be 
eradicated  so  long  as  that  nature  remains  itself.  The  Pelagian, 
then,  in  rejecting  these  doctrines,  opposed  himself  to  facts ;  he 
separated  himself  from  that  whole  actual  body  of  sentiment, 
instinct,  and  feeling  which  constitutes  the  religious  life  of  man- 
kind, and  placed  himself  outside  human  nature The 

Pelagian,  then,  or,  to  take  the  stronger  instance,  the  Socinian, 
may  appeal  to  the  simplicity  and  plainness  of  his  system — that  it 
contains  no  obscure  and  incomplete,  no  discordant  and  irrecon- 
cilable ideas  ;  but  if  he  does,  he  boasts  of  a  religion  which  is  self- 
convicted  of  falsehood  and  delusion,  and  is  proved,  on  its  own 

showing,  to  be  a  dream 

'  In  this  state  of  the  case  the  Church  has  made  a  wise  and  just 
distinction  in  its  treatment  of  the  resiDective  errors  of  the  Pelagian 
and  the  Predestinarian  ;  and  while,  it  has  cast  Pelagianism  out  of 
its  communion,  as  a  system  fundamentally  opposed  to  Christian 
belief,  it  has  tolerated  Predestinarianism,  regarding  it  as  a  system 
which  only  carries  some  religious  ideas  to  an  excess,  and  does  not 
err  in  principle,  or  offend  against  piety  and  morals.' 


180  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Note  C.    Pacje  65. 


St.  Augustine  liolds  tlie  highest  x^lace  among  the  early  Chris- 
tian teachers  as  the  apostle  of  a  pure  and  lofty  morality.  His 
concei^tion  of  the  nature  of  God,  and  of  the  relations  of  man  to 
Him,  while  they  abound  throughout  his  writings,  are  most 
strikingly  shown  in  the  Confessions,  and  in  many  parts  of  the  de 
Cimtate  Dei,  both  of  which  works  were  composed  after  he  had 
clevelojDed  his  views  of  grace  in  the  controversy  with  Pelagius. 
It  has  been  remarked  as  a  curious  paradox,  that  the  same  theolo- 
gians who  most  restrain  the  notion  of  human  liberty  and  exalt 
that  of  necessity,  and  who  would  seem  thereby  logically  to  enfeeble 
the  claims  of  duty  and  morality,  are  found  in  fact  to  be  their 
most  strenuous  assertors. 

'  n  serait  curieux,'  observes  M.  Remusat  (Abelard,  ii.  501),  as 
quoted  by  M.  Nourrisson  {La  PMlosoplde  de  8.  Augustin,  ii.  380), 
*  de  chercher  pourquoi  toutes  les  sectes,  y  compris  la  sto'icienne, 
qui  n'ont  jDas  gtS  franches  sur  la  question  de  la  liberty,  et  qui,  j)ar 
la,  semblaient  affaiblir  la  condition  essentielle  de  toute  morale,  ont 
tendu  cependant  au  rigorisme,  tandis  que  I'opinion  contraire  a 
quelquefois  verse  dans  le  relachement. 

'  La  solution  de  ce  problfeme,'  continues  M.  Nourrisson,  '  qui  se 
presente  naturellement  a  I'esprit  quand  on  examine  les  doctrines 
de  saint  Augustin,  a  et6,  ce  semble,  indiqu6e  en  quelques  mots  par 
Montesquieu. 

'■  "  Lorsque  la  religion  etablit  le  dogme  de  la  necessity  des 
actions  humaines,"  ecrit  Montesquieu,  "  les  peines  des  lois  doivent 
Stre  i^lus  s^v^res  et  la  j)olice  plus  vigilante,  pour  que  les  hommes, 
qui  sans  cela  s'abandonneraient  a  eux-memes,  soient  determines  par 
ces  motifs;  mais  si  la  religion  6tablit  la  dogme  de  la  liberte,  c'est 
autre  chose."  {Esprit  des  Lois,  liv.  xxiv.  ch.  14.)  En  effet,  sui)- 
primez  ou  affaiblissez  le  libre  arbitre,  et  il  faut  aux  hommes  une 
discipline  approchante  des  lois  qui  r6gissent  les  corps.     Toute  la 


NOTES   AND   ILLrSTRATIONS.  181 

morale  se  recluit  alors  a  iin  etroit  syst^me  cle  mesures  preventives. 
Car  Tenergie  humaine  ne  se  manifeste  plus  que  comme  une  puis- 
sance brute  qu'il  est  necessaire  cle  contenir  ou  de  diriger.  De  lii, 
en  grande  partie,  le  rigorisme  du  calvinisme  et  du  jausenisme 
lesquels,  on  n'en  saurait  douter,  procSdent,  par  certains  cot^s,  de 
la  doctrine  augustinienne  de  la  grace. 

'Mais  Augustin  ne  s'est  pas  toujours  d^fig  du  libre  arbitre 
jusqu'a  le  m^connaitre.  ■  Les  yeux  d'abord  fixgs  sur  la  nature 
humaine,  ^claire  par  la  reflexion  avant  d'etre  entraine  par  la 
joolemique,  il  a  constate  avee  une  remarquable  surete  de  sens  que  la 
plupart  des  pliilosophes  n'ont  errg  en  morale  que  parce  qu'ils  n'ont 
con9u  de  la  nature  humaine  qu'une  incomplete  id€e.  Ainsi,  que 
tons  les  hommes  d^sirent  d'etre  heureux,  que  tous  aspirent  a;  un 
bien  qui  renferme  tous  les  biens,  c'est  ce  qui  aj^parait  avec  une 
Evidence  irresistible.  Ni  les  gpicuriens,  ni  les  stoi'ciens,  ni  les 
sages,  ni  le  vulgaire  n'ont  reussi  neanmoins  a  determiner  la  nature 
du  souverain  bien,  faute  d'avoir  entendu  qu'il  y  a  pour  I'homme 
des  biens  in^gaux ;  de  grands  biens,  de  petits  biens  et  des  biens 
moyens,  qu'il  est  necessaire  de  subordonner  entre  eux.  Or,  Tame 
est  le  bien  du  corps,  et  ITime  qui  n'est  pas  son  bien  a  elle-meme,  a 
son  bien  en  Dieu.  EfFectivement,  vouloir  etre  heureux,  c'est  aimer 
retre  ;  c'est  I'aimer  dans  sa  pl6nitude  ;  c'est  aimer  la  paix,  et  ceux- 
la;  meme  qui  se  donnent  la  mort  afin  de  se  soustraire  aux  tribula- 
tions de  la  vie,  poursuivent,  non  pas  le  neant,  mais  la  j^aix. 
Cependant  I'etre  et  la  paix  sont  uniquement  en  Dieu.  Ailleurs 
qu'en  Dieu,  il  n'y  a  que  manque,  instability,  vicissitude.  Par 
consequent,  en  Dieu  seul  se  recontre  le  souverain  bien  de  I'homme. 
Connaitre  Dieu,  voila  la  sagesse ;  I'aimer,  voila  la  vertu ;  le 
posseder,  voila  le  bonheur.  Et  Augustin  ceifebre  avec  toutes  les 
magnificences  de  son  langage  I'union  de  I'^me  si  Dieu,  derni^re  fin 
de  I'ame  ;  laquelle  n'est  pas  absorption,  mais  acroissement,  nourri- 
ture  et  transformation  de  vie  par  la  verite  par  la  beaute. 

'D'un  autre  cotS,  jamais  apparemment  I'Sveque  d'Hippone  ne 


182  KOTES    A^'D    ILLUSTRATiuNS. 

s'est  montre  plus  eloquent  ecrivain,  ui  observateur  plus  sagace,  que 
dans  la  peinture  cles  passions  en  general,  mais  surtout  des  passions 
qui  nous  gloignent  de  Dieu,  et  qu'il  dSsigne  sous  la  denomination 
gen^rique  de  concupiscence.  Car  en  quels  termes  cliastes  et  bru- 
lants  nc  parle-t-il  point  de  la  concupiscence  de  la  chair  ?  Avec 
quelle  finesse,  mais  avec  quel  accent  de  melancolique  repentir  n'a- 
t-il  pas  d^crit  les  mille  impressions  qui  nous  assiggent  comme  par 
les  j)ortes  des  sens,  c'est-a-dire  les  tentations  du  gout,  de  I'odorat 
de  I'ouie,  de  la  vue  ?  Ou  encore,  quel  moraliste  a  scrutC  plus 
avant  les  vanitSs  que  recele  le  d6sir  d'exp^rimenter  et  de  connai- 
tre,  les  raffinements  caches  et  imperceptibles  de  I'orgueil  ?  II  pent 
y  avoir  dans  les  ouvrages  de  Platon  et  d'Aristote  plus  de  systeme, 
et  ici  d'ailleurs,  comme  presque  partout,  ces  deux  genies  merveil- 
leux  out,  en  philosophic,  fraye  la  route  a  saint  Augustin.  Mais 
les  chapitres  des  Confessions  sont  incomparables  par  I'emotion. 
.  .  .  .  Platon  et  Aristote  sont  essentiellement  des  moralistes 
de  la  Grecc  antique ;  Augustin  est  un  moraliste  de  I'liumanit^.' 

But,  in  fact,  explain  it  how  we  may,  the  religion  of  grace  and 
necessity  is  essentially  a  religion  of  morality.  The  religion  of  free- 
will is  essentially  immoral.  It  is  impossible  not  to  subscribe  to 
the  account  of  the  immoral  tendencies  of  Pelagianism  as  given  at 
length  by  Mr.  Mozley  {Augustlniaii  Doctrines  of  Predestination^  j). 
104)  :— 

'  Raised  upon  basis  thus  philosophically  and  religiously  at 
fault,  Pelagianism  was  first  an  artificial  system,  and  next  of  a  low 
moral  tendency. 

'  It  wanted  reality,  and  was  artificial  in  assigning  to  man  what 
was  opposed  to  his  consciousness,  and  to  what  he  felt  to  be  the 
truth  about  himself.  The  absolute  power  of  man  to  act  without 
sin,  and  be  morally  perfect,  was  evidently  a  fiction,  based  on  an 
abstract  idea,  and  not  on  the  experienced  faculty  of  freewill.  And 
when  he  followed  with  a  list  of  men  who  had  actually  been  i^er- 
fect  moral  beings,  Abel,  Enoch,  Melchisedek  and  others,  he  sim- 


NOTES   A^D   ILLIJSTEATIOKS.  183 

ply  trifled,  and  showed  how  fantastic,  absurd,  and  unsubstantial 
his  position  was.  Human  nature  is  too  seriously  alive  to  the  law 
of  sin  under  which  it  at  present  acts,  not  to  feel  the  mockery  of 
such  an  assertion. 

'  The  system,  again,  had  a  low  moral  tendency.  First,  it  dulled 
the  sense  of  sin.  Prior  to  and  independent  of  action  there  exists 
a  state  of  desire  which  the  refined  conscience  mourns  over ;  but 
which  is  part  of  the  existing  nature  as  distinguished  from  being 
the  choice  of  man.  Hence  the  true  sense  in  which  the  saints  have 
ever  grieved,  not  only  over  their  acts,  but  over  their  nature :  for, 
however  incomprehensibly,  they  have  felt  something  to  be  sinful 
within  them  which  was  yet  coeval  with  them.  But  the  Pelagian, 
not  admitting  any  sin  but  that  of  direct  choice,  would  not  see  in 
concupiscence  anything  but  a  legitimate  desire,  w^hich  might  be 
abused,  but  was  in  itself  innocent.  In  disallowing  the  mystery  of 
evil,  he  thus  impaired  his  23erception  of  it ;  he  only  saw  nature  in 
that  to  which  the  acute  conscience  attached  sin,  and  gave  him- 
self credit  for  a  sound  and  practical  standard  of  morals,  as  opposed 
to  a  morbid  and  too  sensitive  one.  The  doctrine  of  perfectibility 
encouraged  the  same  tendency  in  the  system,  demanding  a  lower 
moral  standard  for  its  verification.  And  the  same  narrowness  of 
moral  basis  which  dulled  the  sense  of  sin,  depressed  the  standard 
of  virtue.  The  Pelagian  denied  virtue  as  an  inspiration  and  gift 
of  God,  confining  his  idea  of  it  entirely  to  human  effort  and  direct 
choice. 

'  But  the  former  conception  of  the  source  of  virtue  was  neces- 
sary to  a  high  standard  of  virtue  itself.  If  we  are  to  rely  on  what 
general  feeling  and  practical  experience  say  on  this  subject,  virtue 
needs  for  its  own  support  the  religious  rationale^  i.  e.  the  idea  of 
itself  as  something  imparted.  There  must  be  that  image  and  rep- 
resentation of  it  in  men's  minds  which  presents  it  less  as  a  human 
w^ork  than  as  an  impulse  from  above,  possessing  itself  of  the  man 
he  knows  not  how ;  a  holy  passion,  and  a  spark  kindled  from  the 


184:  :XOTES   AND   ILLUSTEATIONS. 

heavenly  lire.  It  is  this  conception  of  it  as  an  insjjiration  that  has 
excited  the  sacred  ambition  of  the  human  mind,  which  longs  for 
a  union  with  God,  or  a  participation  of  the  Divine  life,  and  sees  in 
this  inspiration  this  union.  Virtue  has  thus  risen  from  a  social 
and  civil  to  a  sublime  and  intrinsic  standard,  and  jDresented  itself 
as  that  Avhich  raised  man  above  the  world,  and  not  simply  mould- 
ed and  trained  him  for  it. 

'  This  conception  has  accordingly  approved  itself  to  the  great 
l^oets  of  the  world,  who  have  in  their  ideal  of  man  greatly  leaned 
to  the  inspired  kind  of  virtue.  So  congenial  to  the  better  instincts 
even  of  the  unenlightened  human  mind  is  the  Christian  doctrine 
of  grace,  while  disconnected  with  this  ennobling  conception,  mo- 
rality has  sunk  down  to  a  political  and  secular  level.  Nor  is  there 
any  justice  surer  than  that  by  which  the  self-sufficient  will  is  pun- 
ished by  the  exposure  of  its  own  feebleness,  and  rejected  grace 
avenged  in  a  barren  and  impoverished  form  of  virtue.  Those 
schools  that  have  seen  in  the  doctrine  of  grace  only  an  unsound 
enthusiasm,  and  have  aimed  at  fortifying  the  ground  of  morals  by 
releasing  it  from  this  connection,  have  not  improved  their  moral 
standard,  but  greatly  lowered  and  relaxed  it.  With  a  dulled 
sense  of  sin,  a  depressed  state  of  virtue,  Pelagianism  thus  tended 
to  the  moral  tone  of  Socinianism,  and  the  religion  which  denies 
the  Incarnation.  The  asceticism  of  its  first  promulgators  and  dis- 
ciples could  not  neutralize  the  tendencies  of  a  system  opposed  to 
mystery  and  to  grace,  and  therefore  hostile  at  once  to  the  moral 
standard  of  Christianity. 

'  The  triumphant  overthrow  of  such  a  school  was,  the  service 
which  S.  Augustine  performed  to  the  Church,  and  for  which,  un- 
der God,  we  still  owe  him  gratitude. 

'  With  all  the  excess  to  v/hich  he  pushed  the  truth  which  he 
defended,  he  defended  a  vital  truth,  without  which  Christianity 
must  have  sunk  to  an  inferior  religion,  against  a  strong  and  for- 
midable attack.     He  sustained  that  idea  of  virtue  as  an  inspiration 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTEATIONS.  1S5 

to  which  the  lofty  thought  of  even  heathen  times  ever  clung,  which 
the  Gospel  formally  expressed  in  the  doctrine  of  grace,  and  which 
is  necessary  to  uphold  the  attributes  of  God,  and  the  moral  stand- 
ard of  man. 

Compare  M.  de  Pressense's  statement  of  the  philosophical  and 
moral  defects  of  the  same  system,  and  the  eloquent  apology  for 
Augustinianism  which  he  deduces  from  it  {Le  Christ ianisme  au 
QuatrUme  Siede,  j).  321)  : — 

'  II  est  Evident  que  le  pelagianisme  n'admet  pas  s^ricusement 
la  redemption  ;  Jesus-Christ  est  un  module  et  uon  uu  sauveur  ;  il 
n'est  pas  mgme  ngcessaire  comme  modMe,  xDuisquc  la  saintetg  par- 
faite  a  etS  r^alis^e  avant  son  apparition  sur  la  terre.  Au  lieu 
d'etre  la  pierre  de  Tangle  de  I'edifice  religieux,  il  n'est  plus  que 
son  couronnemeut ;  mais  quelque  admirable  que  soit  ce  couronne- 
ment,  I'edifice  ne  s'en  ecroule  pas  moins,  ]3arce  qu'il  n'a  plus  sa 
base.  Oter  la  redemption  de  la  dogmatique  chretienne  et  vous 
n'avez  plus  qu'une  philosophic  ;  TEvangile  a  perdu  toute  efiicace 
et  toute  originalite,  et  il  ne  vaut  plus  la  peine  de  parler  de  ce  qui 
en  reste.  Au  contraire,  la  redemption  occupe  une  place  centrale 
dans  le  syst&me  d'Augustin ;  la  chute  y  conserve  sa  gravite  et  la 
redemption  sa  grandeur.  Le  temple  a  son  autel  et  le  Christ-Dieu 
re9oit  I'adoration  qui  lui  appartient.  Qu'on  ne  s'y  trompe  pas ;  le 
pelagianisme  renverse  tout,  aussi  bien  la  morale  que  le  dogme.  A 
vrai  dire,  la  morale  et  le  dogme  sont  etroitement  solidaires.  Le 
premier  principe  de  toute  morale  sgrieuse  c'est  Timitation  de 
Dieu.  Le  bien  est  ce  cjui  est  conforme  a  Dieu.  Par  consequent, 
plus  I'idee  de  Dieu  est  grande,  plus  Tideal  moral  est  pur  et  eieve  ; 
plus  elle  s'abaisse  et  sc  retrecit,  plus  il  diminue  et  s'alt^re.  La 
morale  est  done  compromise  par  Tamomdrissement  du  dogme,  car 
le  dogme  est  en  definitive  I'idee  de  Dieu,  telle  cj^u'elle  ressort  de  la 
revelation.  Le  Dieu  qui  s'est  devoiie  it  la  croix  dans  un  myst^re 
insondable  de  douleur  et  d'amour,  ei^ve  seul  I'ideal  moral  a  la 
hautem*  de  la  saintete,  inseparable  elle-meme  de  la  charite  et  du 


186  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTEATIONS. 

devouement.  Voilii  pourquoi  toiite  doctrine  qui  fait  disparaitre 
ce  grand  mystere  abaise  miserablement  la  morale.  Voila  pourquoi 
le  pglagianisme  substitue  a  la  saintetS  Thonngtete  mondaine.  On 
ne  nie  pas  la  redemption  sans  nier  en  m^me  temps  la  vraie  cliarite, 
celle  qui  se  donne  et  slmmole  pour  le  Dieu  et  pour  I'liumanitg 
rachetee  par  son  sang. 

'  On  nous  objectera  peut-etre  qu'au  point  de  vuc  moral  I'augus- 
tinisme  a  des  consequences  bien  graves,  et  qu'il  porte  atteinte  si 
la  responsabilite  de  la  creature  libre.  Nous  en  convenons;  mais 
nous  affirmons  que  le  sentiment  qui  a  inspire  I'augustinisme,  m^me 
dans  ses  plus  fatales  erreures,  etait  profondement  religieux :  ce 
sentiment,  c'6tait  le  besoin  ardent  de  donner  toute  gloire  it  Dieu, 
de  prosteruer",  de  courber  devant  lui  dans  la  poudre  la  creature 
coupable 

'  L'liistoire  d'aillcurs  apporte  son  puissant  temoignage  u  L'au- 
gustinisme.  Partout  ou  il  a  predomine,  le  niveau  de  la  vie  reli- 
gieuse  et  morale  s'cst  eieve ;  partout  ou  le  pglagianisme  a  triomplie, 
ce  niveau  s'est  abaisse.  Cela  est  vrai  dans  I'enceinte  meme  du  catli- 
olicisme:  Ics  partisans  d'une  morale  relacliee  etaient  des  pSla- 
giens  ;  lesjesuites  fustig^s  par  Pascal  appartenaient  a  cette  triste 
ecole.  Pascal  lui-meme,  St.  Cyran,  Arnaud,  Lemaitre  de  Sacy,  et 
la  m^re  Angeliquc  i)rofessaient  I'augustinisme  le  plus  strict.  Qui 
oserait  dire  que  dans  nosprojDres  eglises  I'augustinisme,  rendu  plus 
consequent  et  plus  implacable  encore,  ait  tourne  au  detriment  de 
la  piete  ?  Si  on  le  disait,  les  pierres  memes  crieraient;  c'est  I'au- 
gustinisme renouvele  et  aggrav^  par  Calvin  qui  a  trcmpS  ces  no- 
bles et  clievaleresques  caract^res  de  la  rSforme  fran9aise  ;  c'est  lui 
qui  a  inspire  des  milliers  de  martyrs.'     .... 

Note  D.    Page  72. 

Tlie  anecdote  referred  to  may  be  worth  relating  in  the  quaint 
language  of  the  chronicle  of  Gregory  of  Tours  (Hist,  iv.  21) : — 
'Rex  vero  Chlotocharius,  anno  quinquagesimo  primo  regni  sui, 


XOTES    AND    ILLUSTEATIONS.  187 

cum  multis  mmieribiis  limina  beati  Martini  expetiit,  et  adveniens 
Turonis  ad  sepulclii'um  antedicti  antistitis  ciinctas  actiones  quas 
fortasse  negligenter  egerat  replicans,  ct  orans  cum  grandi  gemitu, 
ut  pro  suis  culpis  beatus  confessor  Domini  misericordiam  exoraret, 
et  ea  qua3  irrationabiliter  commiserat  suo  obtentu  dilueret.  .  .  . 
Exin  egressus  dum  in  Cotia  sylva  vcnationem  exerceret,  a  febre 
corripitur,  et  exinde  compendium  villam  rediit ;  in  qua  cum  gra- 
viter  vexaretur  a  febre  aiebat :  Wa  !  quid  i)utatis,  qualis  est  ille 
rex  ccelestis,  qui  sic  tam  magnos  reges  interficit  ?  In  hoc  enim 
tioedio  positus  spiritum  exlialavit.' 

Note  E.     Page  79. 

The  mutual  approximation  of  the  Christians  and  the  Pagans 
in  the  fourth  and  fifth  century  forms  a  curious  chax3ter  in  history, 
and  deserves  to  be  more  accurately  examined  than  has  yet  been 
done.  It  appears  partly  in  the  inveterate  lingering  of  Pagan 
usages  and  superstitious  feelings  among  the  nominally  converted ; 
partly  in  the  social  tolerance  of  differences  of  opinion-  on  subjects 
which  in  other  ages  of  the  Church  have  generally  placed  an  insur- 
mountable barrier  between  man  and  man ;  partly  again  in  the  as- 
sumption on  either  side  of  much  of  the  theological  i3hraseology 
which  is  properly  distinctive  of  the  two  religions,  and  very  strik- 
ingly in  some  instances  in  the  dropping  by  the  Christians  of  all  out- 
ward regard  even  to  their  most  distinctive  doctrines.  Buegnot  {Ilis- 
toire  de  la  Destruction  du  Paganisme  en  Occident^  tomeii.  p.  ^'Useqq.) 
enters  into  details  on  the  first  of  these  heads.  I  transcribe  some 
passages  from  Chateaubriand  {Etudes  Historiques  sur  la  Cliute  de 
VEminre  Bomain,  3^  partie),  which  suffice  to  give  a  sketch  of  the 
others : — 

'  Volusien,  homme  d'une  famille  puissante  a  Carthage,  avoit 
mandS  a  saint  Augustin  qu'un  de  ses  amis  manifcstoit  le  d^sir  de 
trouver  un  chretien  capable  de  resoudre  certaines  diflScultes  rela- 


ISS  NOTES    AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

tives  au  nouveau  culte.  Saint  Augustin,  dans  unc  reponse  aifable 
et  polie,  lui  envoie  line  sorte  cVabrgg^  cle  la  Cit6  de  Dieu. 

'  Le  m^me  P&re  entretient  une  correspondance  avec  la  popula- 
tion pa'ienne  de  Madaiire.  "  Reveillez-vous,  peuples  de  Madaure, 
mes  parents,  mes  fibres  !  .  .  .  .  Un  gvequc,  un  controversiste 
ardent,  saint  Augustin,  appelle  des  idolatres  ses  ^;ar^;i^s,  ses 
freresP  .... 

'  Quelques  annees  auparavant,  il  avoit  cu  un  commerce  de  let- 
tres  avec  Maxime,  grammairien  dans  cette  meme  ville  de  Ma- 
daure :  Maxime  I'avoit  prig  de  laisser  a  cotS  son  Eloquence  et  les 
subtiles  arguments  de  Chrysippe,  pour  lui  dire  quel  etoit  le  Dieu 
des  Chretiens.  "  Et  ^  pr6sent,  homme  excellent,  qui  as  abandonn^ 
ma  communion,  cette  lettre  sera  jet€e  au  feu  ou  d6truite  d'une 
autre  manibre."  "  S'il  en  est  ainsi,  un  peu  de  paj^ier  pgrira,  mais 
non  ma  doctrine  ....  puissent  les  Dieux  te  conserver  !  les 
Dieux,  par  qui  les  peuj)les  de  la  terre  adorent  en  mille  manibres 
diffSrentes,  dans  un  liarmonieux  discord,  le  Pere  commun  de  ces 
dieux  et  des  bommes  !  "  Voici  le  pa'ien  qui  appelle  a  son  tour  les 
bSngdictions  du  ciel  sur  la  tete  d'un  cliretien. 

'  Longinien  ecrit  ces  mots  a  saint  Augustin :  "  Seigneur  et 
lionorS  pbre,  quant  au  Christ  en  qui  tu  crois,  et  I'Esprit  de  Dieu 
par  qui  tu  esj)bres  aller  dans  le  sein  du  vrai,  du  souverain,  du  bien- 
iieureux  auteur  de  toutes  cboses,  je  n'ose  ni  ne  puis  exprimer  ce 
que  je  pense :  il  est  difficile  ^  un  homme  de  definir  ce  qu'il  ne 
comprend  pas;  mais  tu  es  digne  du  respect  que  je  porte  a  tes  ver- 
tus."  Saint  Augustin  rgpond  :  "  J'aime  ta  circonspection  ^  ne  rien 
nier,  ^  ne  rien  affirmer  touch  ant  le  Christ ;  c'est  une  louable  re- 
serve dans  un  paien." 

'Mais  avant  ces  lettres  d' Augustin,  on  trouve  peut-etre  un 
monument  encore  plus  extraordinaire  de  la  tolerance  religieuse 
entre  les  esprits  supgrieurs :  ce  sont  les  lettres  de  saint  Basile  fi 
Libanius,  et  de  Libanius  ti  saint  Basile.  Le  so^jhiste  paien  avoit 
ete  le  maitre  du  docteur  chr^tien  a  Constantinople. 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTEATIOXS.  189 

'  "  Quand  vous  fCites  retoum6  dans  votre  pays,"  eciit  Libanius 
S  Basile,  "je  me  disois :  Que  fait  maintenant  Basile  ?  plaide-t-il  an 
barreau  ?  enseigne-t-il  Teloquence  ?  J'ai  appris  que  vous  aviez 
suiyi  une  meilleure  voie,  que  vous  nc  vous  ^tiez  occupS  qu'u  plaire 
a  Dieu ;  et  j'ai  envie  votre  bonlieur."     {Epist.  33G.) 

'  Basile  en voie  desjeuues  Cappadociens  a  I'ecole  de  Libanius, 
sans  crainte  de  les  infecter  du  venin  de  Tidolatrie.  "  II  suffira," 
lui  mande-t-il,  "  qu'avant  ITige  de  Texperience  ces  jeunes  gens 
soient  comptes  parmi  vos  disciples."  {Epist.  337.)  "Basile  est 
mon  ami,"  s'ecrie  Libanius  dans  une  autre  lettre,  "  Basile  est  mon 
vainqueur,  et  j'en  suis  ravi  de  joie."  {Epist.  338.)  "  Je  tiens  votre 
harangue,"  dit  Basile,  "  je  Fai  admiree.  O  Muses  !  O  Athfenes  ! 
que  de  choses  vous  enseignez  ^t  vos  el^ves !  "     {Epist.  353.) 

'  Est-ce  bien  I'ennemi  de  Julien,  Pami  de  Gr^goire  de  Nazianze, 
le  fondateur  de  la  vie  cgnobitique  ?  est-ce  bien  I'ardent  sectateur 
de  Julien,  le  violent  adversaire  des  moines,  Forateur  qui  defendoit 
les  temples  ?  Sont-ce  bien  ces  deux  liommes  qui  ont  ensemble  un 
pareil  commerce  de  lettres  ? 

'  Syn6sius,  de  la  colonic  lacedSmouienne  fondee  en  Afrique  dans 
la  Cyrgnaique,  descendoit  d'Eurystlifene,  premier  roi  de  Spaiie  de 
la  race  dorique :  il  etoit  pMlosoplie ;  comme  saint  Augustin,  dans 
sa  jeunesse,  il  partageoit  ses  jours  entre  la  lecture  et  la  chasse.  Le 
peuple  de  Ptolemaide,  en  Libye,  le  demande  pour  evSque.  Syng- 
sius  declare  qu'il  ne  se  reconnatt  point  la  puretS  de  moeurs  neces- 
saire  a  un  si  saint  etat ;  que  Dieu  lui  a  donn§  une  femme  ;  qu'il  ne 
veut  la  quitter,  ni  s'approclier  d'elle  furtivement  comme  un  adul- 
t^re ;  qu'il  souliaite  avoir  un  grand  nombre  d'enfants  beaux  et 
vertueux.  II  ajoutoit :  "  Jene  croirai  jamais  que  Fame  soit  creSe 
apres  le  corps ;  je  ne  dirai  jamais  que  le  monde  doit  perir  en  tout 
ou  en  partie ;  la  resurrection  [of  the  body]  me  paroit  une  chose 
fort  mysterieuse,  et  je  ne  me  rends  point  aux  opinions  du  vul- 
gaire."  {Spies.  Epist.  97,  105.)  On  lui  laissa  sa  femmes  et  ses 
opinions,  et  on  le  fit  €v^que.      Quand  il  fut  ordonne,  il  ne  put, 


190  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTKATIONS. 

pendant  sept  mois,  se  rgsoudre  sl  vivre  au  milieu  de  son  troupeau  ; 
il  iDensoit  que  sa  charge  6toit  incompatible  avec  sa  pliilosopliie ; 
il  vouloit  s'expatrier  et  passer  en  Gr^ce.  {Epist.  95.)  On  lui  laissa 
sa  pliilosopliie,  et  il  resta  a  Ptolemaide. 

'  SynSsius  avoit  gt§  disciple  d'Hypatia,  it  Alexandrie,  Les  let- 
tres  qu'il  lui  ^crit  sont  ainsi  souscrites :  "  Au  pMlosoplie.  Au  plii- 
losoplie  Hypatia."  Dans  une  de  ses  lettres  (et  il  6toit  alors  Sveque), 
il  I'appelle  sa  m^re,  sa  soeur,  sa  maitresse.  II  lui  trouve  une  ^me 
tres-divine.  {Epist.  10.)  II  felicite  Herculien  de  lui  avoir  fait 
connoitre  cette  femme  extraordinaire,  qui  revele  les  mystferes  de  la 
vrai  pliilosopliie.     (Epist.  136.) 

'II  n'est  x^as  jusqu'aux  po'etes  dans  les  deux  cultes  qui  ne  gS- 
missent  de  ne  pouvoir  clianter  aux  memes  fcmtaines  et  sur  la  m8me 
montagne.  Ausone,  de  la  religion  d'Homere,  gcrit  a  Pauline,  de 
la  religion  du  Christ:  "Muses,  divinit^s  de  la  Gr^ce,  entendez 
cette  pri^re,  rendez  un  poete  aux  Muses  du  Latium  ! "  Le  poete 
de  la  croix  repond :  "  Pourquoi  rappelles-tu  en  ma  faveur  les 
Muses  que  j'ai  rejoudiees  ?  Un  plus  grand  Dieu  subjugue  mon 
^me." '     .     .     .     . 

[Ampere,  however  (Hist.  Litteraire  de  la  France,  i.  249),  ^Droves 
Ansonius  to  have  been  a  Christian,  from  the  lines  '  Sancta  saluti- 
fera3  redeunt  jam  tempora  Paschte,'  &c.  And  such  is  the  more 
common  opinion.  See  Biihr,  Gesch.  cler  Bom.  Literatur^  1.  475. 
But  if  so,  the  prevalence  of  Pagan  forms  of  thought  and  diction  is 
the  more  remarkable.  Ampere  thus  qualifies  him:  'Ausone, 
Chretien  de  fait,  est  pa'ien  d'imagination  et  sceptique  par  habi- 
tude.' Heyne's  remarks  on  the  subject  are  to  the  purpose  (Opusc. 
Amdem.  vi.  33) :  '  Miraberis  forte  in  ista  temporum  ortliodoxia3 
severitate,  propter  ethnica  ilia  eflfata  et  alia  hnsreticis  propiora  non 
adductum  eum  esse  in  malignas  calumniationes  ;  at  enim  duo  sunt 
qu^  in  scrix^toribus  istarum  aatatum  observare  licet :  jDrimo  eos, 
qui  a  i)atriis  religionibus  ad  Christiana  sacra  transierant,  plerum- 
que  summis  tantum  labiis  doctrinas  recens  receptas  delibasse ;  se- 


NOTES    AND    ILLUSTKATIOXS.  191 

cundo,  non  valcle  qii£esitiim  esse  cle  notitiis,  quas  quisqne  sibi 
parasset,  jDlacitoriim  Cbristianorum,  diimmodo  iu  nullam  quses- 
tionem  impingerct,  qiios  in  ilia  Jietate  iDroscripta  erat  tanquam 
hasresis.'] 

'  Le  temps,  comme  vous  le  voyez,  avoit  use  la  yiolence  des  par- 
tis :  les  liommes  supSrieurs,  le  moment  de  Taction  passe,  ne  tar- 
dent  pas  a;  s'entendre  ;  il  est  entre  ces  liommes  ime  paix  naturelle 
qu'on  jDOurrait  appeler  la  paix  des  talents  ....  aiissi  vers  la  fin 
du  quatri&me  si^cle,  et  dans  les  deux  si^cles  suivants,  la  tendance 
que  les  XDhilosoplies  des  deux  religions  out  a  se  rapprocher  est  vis- 
ible ;  la  liaine  a  disparu,  il  ne  reste  que  les  regrets 

'  Dans  cette  agonic  d'une  societe  prete  a  passer,  I'assimilation 
de  langage,  d'idees  et  de  moeurs,  gtoit  x^resque  complete  entre  les 
liommes  supCrieurs  des  deux  religious :  memes  principes  de  mor- 
ales, memes  expressions  de  salut,  de  grace  divine,  memes  invoca- 
tions au  Dieu  unique,  (iternel,  au  Dieu  Sauveur.  Quand  on  lit 
Synesius  et  Marinus,  Fulgence  et  Damascius,  et  les  autres  ecri- 
vains  religieux  et  moraux  de  cette  epoque,  on  auroit  peine  a 
determiner  la  croyance  a  laquelle  ils  appartenoient,  si  les  uns  ne 
s'appuyoient  de  I'autoritS  liomiirique,  les  autres  de  I'autorite  bib- 
lique. 

'  Boece  dans  TOccident,  Simplicius  dans  I'Orieut,  termin^rent 
cette  sSrie  de  beaux  g6nies  qui  s'6toient  j)lacgs  entre  le  ciel  et  la 
terre :  ils  virent  entrer  la  solitude  dans  les  €coles  ou  le  christian- 
isme  avoit  gtS  nourri,  et  dont  il  cliasse  I'auditoire ;  ils  fermferent 
avec  honneur  les  portes  du  Lycee  et  de  I'academie  des  sages.  .  .  . 
Boece,  dir^tien  et  pers^cutg,  ^toit  un  pliilosopbe ;  Simplicius,  phi- 
losophe  et  heureux,  avoit  le  caractfere  d'un  chrgtien. 

While  such  was  the  mutual  ■  approximation  of  the  educated 
classes  among  the  Christians  and  the  Pagans,  resulting  in  aj^parent 
indifference  to  the  essential  characteristics  of  either  creed,  the 
mass  of  professing  believers  were  found  to  relapse  into  the  grossest 
superstitions  and  jDractices  of  the  heathen.     In  the  tlftli  century, 


192  XOTES    AXD    ILLUSTKATIOXS. 

Leo,  bishop  of  Rome,  dci^lores  the  deep  corruption  of  Christian 
society,  and  adjures  his  Jflock  not  to  fall  back  into  heathenism. 
The  old  enemy,  he  declares,  is  again  stealing  in  as  an  angel  of 
light,  xvnd  is  seeking  to  ensnare  the  believers.  He  describes  his 
manifold  forms  of  temptation,  and  warns  the  ftiithful  against  the 
instruments  he  employs.  Such  are  they  who  promise  'remedia 
fegritudinum,  indicia  futurorum,  placationes  dsamonum  et  depul- 
sioncs  umbrarum,'  who  pretend  that  all  the  relations  of  human 
life  depend  on  the  influence  of  the  stars,  and  exalt  Fate  above 
the  will  of  God  and  of  man.  Such  men  promise  to  avert  every 
kind  of  evil.  The  old  heathen  cultus,  particularly  that  of  the 
Sun  (Sol  invictus),  had  formally  entwined  itself  with  the  Chris- 
tian worshij)  of  God.  Many  Christians,  before  entering  the  basil- 
ica of  S.  Peter,  were  wont  to  mount  the  platform,  in  order  to  make 
their  obeisance  to  the  rising  luminary.  Here  was  an  instance  of 
the  way  in  which  the  '  sj^irit  of  Paganism '  had  found  means  of 
insinuating  itself  into  the  very  heart  of  Christianity.  Leo  could 
say,  with  no  great  exaggeration,  in  looking  at  the  moral  position 
of  the  Roman  Christians :  '  quod  temporibus  nostris  auctore  dia- 
bolo  sic  vitiata  sunt  omnia,  ut  fere  nihil  sit  quod  absque  idolola- 
tria  transigatur.'  The  weddings  of  the  Christians  could  not  be 
distinguished  from  those  of  the  Pagans.  Everything  was  deter- 
mined by  auguries  and  auspices ;  the  wild  orgies  of  the  Baccha- 
nalians, with  all  their  obscene  songs  and  revelry  were  not  wanting. 
Leo,  Sermo  vii.,  from  Krafi"t,  Anfdnge  der  Christl.  KircTie,  &c.,  p.  48. 
Sec  also  the  work  de  Castitate,  which  is  perhaps  wrongly  attrib- 
uted to  Leo.  See  further  Buegnot,  Destruction  du  Paf/anisme^  ii 
215.  '  Saint  Pierre  Chrysologue,  qui  fut  Sv^que  de  Ravenne  en 
I'annSe  430,  s'61^ve  dans  son  cent  cinquante-cinqui^me  sermon  cen- 
tre I'habitude  des  Chretiens  de  prendre  part  aux  fetes  pa'icnnes  qui 
marquaient  le  retour  des  calendes  de  Janvier.  II  con9oit  bien  que 
radultfere  adore  Venus,  que  I'homme  cruel  honore  Mars ;  mais  il 
ne  iDeut  se  rendre  compte  ce  la  faiblesse  de  ces  pretendus  chrStiens 


NOTES    AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  193 

qui  ne  peuvent  resistcr  au  cliarme  des  fetes  pa'iennes.  Ces  pervers 
adorateurs  du  Christ  repondaient :  "  N"on  sunt  hose  sacrilegiorum 
studia,  vota  sunt  hfcc  jocorum,  novitatis  Isetitia,  non  vetustatis  er- 
ror." lis  n'apercevaient  pas  les  liens  qui  attachaient  leurs  idees 
et  leurs  ma3urs  au  paganisme,  et  qu'ils  ^taient  Chretiens  seulement 
par  le  uom :  "  jSTemo  cum  serpente  securus  ludit ;  quis  de  impietate 
'ludit?  de  sacrilegio  quis  jocatur  ?  "  repondait  Ic  prudent  eveque 
de  Raveune.' 

Compare  among  various  writers  of  the  fifth  century,  Salvian 
(circ,  440)  de  GiCoern.  Dei,  viii.  p.  165.  '  Quis  non  eorum  qui  Chris- 
tiani  ai3pellabantur,  Ca3lestem  illam  [i.  e.  Astarte]  aut  j^ost  Christum 
adoravit,  aut  quod  pejus  est  multo,  ante  quam  Christum  ?  Quis  non 
dsemoniacorum  sacriticiorum  nidore  plenus,  divince  domus  limen  in- 
troiit,  et  cum  foetore  ipsorum  dsemonum  Christi  altare  conscendit  ? 
Ecce  qu89  Afrorum,  et  maxime  noblissimorum,  fides,  qusB  religio, 
qu£e  Christianitas  fuit !  At,  inquis,  non  omnes  ista  faciebant,  sed 
potentissimi  quique  ac  sublimissimi.  xidquiescamus  hoc  ita  esse.' 

But,  if  these  be  mere  declamatory  assertions,  a  curious  fact,  in- 
dicating even  more  strongly  this  approximation  of  sentiment  be- 
tvreen  the  Christians  and  the  Pagans,  is  recorded  by  the  histoxian 
Zosimus.  {Hist.  v.  41.)  See  the  account  as  given  by  Buegnot 
{Destruction  du  Paganisme,  ii.  55)  : — 

'  Pendant  que  les  Remains  attendaient  avec  anxigte  le  sort  qui 
leur  gtait  reserve  [xilaric  besieging  Rome,  a.  d.  408],  des  gens  ve- 
nus  de  I'Strurie  pen^tr^rent  dans  la  ville.  Ccs  strangers  etaient 
sans  doute  des  augures  chassis  de  leur  demeure  par  Parm.6e  des 
Goths.  lis  racont^rent  qu'ils  avaient  sauv6  la  j^etite  ville  de  Ne- 
veia  (Narni)  en  consultant  les  dieux  selon  les  anciens  rites,  que  par 
ce  moyens  la  foudre  Stait  tomb§e  sur  les  barlxires  et  les  avait  dis- 
perses :  ils  offraient  d'en  faire  autant  c^  Rome.  Le  prefet  de  la  > 
ville,  Pompeianus,  cause  avec  eux,  et  interroge  les  livres  poutifi- 
caux  pour  connaitre  la  conduite  qu'il  devait  tenir  en  eettc  grave 
circonstance.     Quoique  les  Remains  pensassent,  qu'il  fallait  con- 

13 


194:  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTEATIONS. 

former  a  Tavis  donne  par  ccs  livres  sacres,  Pompeianus  en  ref^ra  a 
Teveque  Innocent  I*^  Celui-ci,  jDrgferant  le  saint  de  la  ville  au 
triomplie  de  ses  propres  opinions,  antorisa  les  Toscans  a  faire,  mais 
en  secret,  tout  ce  qn'ils  jugeraient  convenable.  lis  repondirent 
que  le  senl  moycn  d'obtenir  quelque  secours  de  ciel  6tait  de  sacri- 
fier  pul^liquement  et  d'une  maniere  conforme  a  tons  les  anciens 
usages,  qu'il  fallait  que  le  s6nat  montSt  solennellement  au  capitole, 
et  que  les  sacrifices  eussent  lieu  soit  dans  cet  endroit,  soit  dans  un 
forum  de  la  ville.  Aucun  senateur  n'osant  assister  a  ces  ceremo- 
nies, les  Toscans  furcnt  conggcli^s,' 

Such  is  the  account  of  the  Pagan  historian  Zosimus ;  and  he 
allows  that  the  impiety  was  not  actually  accomplished.  Sozome- 
nus,  the  Christian,  admits  only  {Hist.  Eccl.  ix.  6)  that  the  sacri- 
fices were  demanded  by  some  Pagans  among  the  senators: 
avayKoiov  kdoKei  toIq  '^Xkrjvi^ovaL  rijQ  GvyKli]rov  6ve/v  h  rw  KaTTiTuXloj  koI 
Tolg  aXloiq  vaoi^,  and  refrains  from  asserting  that  the  bishop  j)ro- 
posed  to  sanction  them.  Although  in  this  respect  the  Christian 
writer  varies  materially  from  the  Pagan,  he  goes  beyond  him  in 
declaring  that  the  sacrifices  were  actually  performed,  which  would 
prove  at  least  the  connivance  of  the  Christian  authorities. 

Note  F.     Page  85. 

Ecclesiastical  historians  and  essayists  have  collected  the  nu- 
merous authorities  which  indicate  the  fatal  corruption  of  the  Chris- 
tian community  from  the  third  century  downwards.  I  quote,  in 
illustration,  some  passages  from  the  conclusion  of  Schmidt's  Essai 
Historique  siir  la  SocUte  Chile  dans  le  Monde  Homain,  et  sa  Trans- 
formation  liar  le  Ghristianisme  (Strasbourg,  1853)  : — 

'  A  cots  de  Faction  du  christianisme  sur  la  socitte  paienne,  il 
y  a  eu  reaction  du  j^aganisme  sur  la  vie  des  chrStiens ;  cette  reac- 
tion a  commence  de  bonne  lieure :  elle  s'est  manifestee  encore,  et 
d'une  maniere  plus  generale  qu'auparavant,  apr^s  le  triomphe  ex 
terieur  et  politique  de  l'£glise 


NOTES    AXD   ILLrSTEATIO:N:S.  195 

'  Aussi  longtemi^s  qii'clle  est  i)ersecutee  elle  se  garde  clu  con- 
tact funeste  avec  les  moeiirs  pa'Iennes ;  elle  sent  plus  vivement  la 
ngcessitg  de  se  distinguer  du  monde,  elle  resserre  le  lien  spiritucl 
entre  ses  membres,  et  au  milieu  des  gpreuves  sa  foi  est  plus  ar- 
dente  et  sa  vie  plus  pure.  Mais  dejtt,  dans  les  intervalles  de  repos 
entre  les  persecutions,  cette  vie  se  relaclie ;  la  tol6rance  tacite  dont 
les  cliretiens  jouissent  sous  quelques  empereurs  devient  la  cause 
d'un  refroidissement  de  la  piete  primitive  et  du  premier  amour, 
et  les  Peres,  affliges  de  ces  retours,  rappellent  frequemment  a 
I'Eglise  que  c'est  pour  la  cliatier  que  Dieu  permet  des  persecutions 
nouvelle.i  ....  Plus  tard,  et  principalement  sous  Theodose, 
quand  le  paganisme  est  officiellement  supprime,  et  que  I'Empire 
jouit  de  quelques  annge  de  paix,  la  jDlupart  des  families  riches  et 
considerables  finissent  par  accepter  le  cliristianisme  ;  mais  elle  ap- 
portent  dans  I'Eglise  les  habitudes  et  I'esprit  pa'iens  auxquels  onre- 

non9ait  plus  difficilement  qu'aux  c^r^monies  et  aux  fables 

Chrysostome  pent  en  appeler  au  tdmoignage  des  paiens  eux-m8mes, 
jDour  constater  qu'au  temps  des  ^preuves,  les  Chretiens,  moins  nom- 
breux,  avaient  eu  des  vertus  plus  pures."^  Les  plaintes  des  P^res 
sont  imanimes  a  cet  ^gard ;  en  admettent  mCme  que,  dans  leur 
sainte  austerite,  il  leur  arrive  d'exagerer  le  mal,  on  ne  jDcut  refuser 

de  recoimaitre  combien  il  a  6te  reel  et  grand L'amour 

desordonne  des  richesscs  et  du  luxe  est  un  des  premiers  a  reparai- 
tre ;  sous  les  empereurs  cliretiens  il  trouve  des  sources  nonvelles 
dans  la  prescription  legale  du  paganisme ;  beaucoup  de  seigneurs 
pulssants  s'enricheut  des  depouilles  des  temples,^  tandis  que 
d'autres  continuent  de  prelever  un  impot  sur  les  sanctuaires, 
dont  ils  permettent  I'usage  clandestin  aux  colons  de  leurs  proprie- 
t^s.-*     .... 


1  Cypr.  Be  Lapiis,  p.  1S2,  seq. ;  Euseb.  Hut  Eccf.  1.  viii.  c.  1 ;  Origen,  Horn.  25  in 
^um.  §  4;  Horn,  in  Jos.  §  1. 

2  Rom.  21  in  Act.  §  3;  ffom.  26  in  2  Cor.  %  4  ;  Horn.  29  in  Act.  §  3. 

3  Ammian.  Marcc41. 1.  sxii.  c.  4.  *  Zeno  Yeron.  1.  i.  tract  15, 


196  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

'L'effet  naturel  de  ce  retoiir  de  ramour  des  richcsses  a  et6  im 
grand  lefroidissement  de  ramour  des  cliretiens  entre  eux.  .  .  . 
Se  rattacliant  au  monde,  les  cliretiens  se  detacb^rcnt  du  ciel  et 
oubiiiJrcnt  les  preceptcs  de  Jesus-Christ ;  ...  on  vit  reparaitre  les 
jalousies,  les  rivalit^s,  les  haines,  et  plus  de  cent  ans  apr^s  qu'Eu- 
sebe  en  constate  ee  retour,  Salvien  dut  s'en  plaindre  de  nouveau, 
en  faisant  avec  tristesse  la  comparaison  de  la  vie  des  cliretiens  avec 
celle  des  barbares  qui  envaliissaient  I'Empire.^  .  .  .  .  Le  gout 
pour  les  spectacles  de  toute  espfece,  pour  le  theatre,  la  danse,  les 
combats  au  cirque,  mal  6teint  cliez  beaucoup  de  paiens  convertis, 
survit  avec  son  ancienne  violence  ri  la  suppression  du  paganisme. 
Au  quatri^me  sifecle,les  chrgtiens  courent  aux  jeux,  plus  nombreux, 
dit  Augustin,  que  les  paiens  et  les  juifs ;  ^  lis  y  chevchent  un  de- 
lassement,  et  n'y  trouveut  que  des  le9ons  de  corruption,  de  luxure 
ou  de  cruaut6 ;  il  en  est  qui  se  croient  des  plus  fermes,  et  qui,  a  la 
vue  du  sang  qui  rougit  Tar^ne,  sentit  se  reveiller  en  eux  les  pas- 
sions endormies,  et  succombent  a  de  tristes  rechutes.'^  lis  remplis- 
sent  les  amphitheatres  aux  fetes  les  plus  solennelles  de  I'Eglise,  le 

jour  de  Paques,  aux  heurcs  memes  des  assemblees  du  culte 

Les  dangers  publics,  la  dissolution  de  I'Empire,  rapproclie  des 
nations  germaniques,  ne  metteut  pas  meme  un  frein  a  cc  delire  ; 
aprfes  la  j)rise  de  Eome  par  les  barbares,  les  Komains,  refugi^s  a 
Carthage,  au  lieu  de  s'afliiger  de  la  chute  de  leur  ville  Hernelle,  se 
melent  avec  ardeur  a  la  foule  frivole  qui  se  presse  aux  theatres.'' 
.  .  .  .  Quand  les  cliretiens,  reveilles  de  leur  insouciance  par 
le  Ijruit  de  I'Empire  qui  s'ecroule,  demandent  avec  anxiete  pour- 
quoi  Dieu  les  abandonne,  les  Peres  leur  r^pondent  qu'ils  ne  souf- 
frent  que  des  maux  merites  par  leurs  vices.-^  ....  L'auteur 
qui  s'exprime  de  la  sorte,  Salvien,  porte  ses  regards  plus  loin  ;  il 

1  De  Giibernat.  Dei^  1.  v.  c.  4.  '^  August.  Serm.  SS,  §  17. 

3  August.  ConfessA.  vi.  c.  8  ;  Chrysost.  Horn,  in  Mattli.  %  G,  7,  et  alibi. 
^  August.  Bd  CivU.  Dei,  1.  i.  c.  32 ;  Confess.  1.  i.  c.  7.    See  also  Salrian,  De  Guh 
Dei,  1.  vi.  c.  12, 15. 

'  Salvian,  De  Guh.  Dei,  1.  iv.  c.  12. 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  197 

compreucl  qii'il  faiit  un  element  nouveau  jiour  rajeimir  la  society 
vieillie ;  c'est  dans  les  invasions  des  barbares  qn'il  entrevoit  un 
moyen  supreme  employ^  par  la  sagesse  de  Dieu  pour  retremper  les 
forces  defaillantes  du  monde  romain ;  le  paganisme  avait  entraine 
rhumanite  dans  une  corruption  profonde,  les  esprits  etaient  amol- 
lis,  les  courages  ^nerves,  les  caractSres  brises ;  le  christianisme 
n'gtait  vivaut  que  dans  des  fmies  individuelles,  tout  en  ayant  trans- 
form6  les  relations  sociales,  mais  il  ne  rcgnait  pas  encore  en  maitre 
inconteste,  les  moeurs  des  masses  lui  resistaient  encore.  II  fallut 
m^ler  a  une  race  devenue  impuissante  une  race  plus  jeune,  pour 
sauver  ce  que  la  civilisation  antique  avait  de  durable  et 
grand.'     .... 

The  rapid  corruption  of  Christian  belief  and  opinion,  which 
seems  to  have  been  thus  closely  connected  with  the  widely  extend- 
ed resumption  of  pagan  usages  and  opinions,  may  be  further 
traced  to  the  prevalence  of  Pelagian  notions,  which  though  de- 
nounced from  time  to  time  by  bishops  and  councils,  became,  as 
they  have  ever  remained,  practically  dominant  in  the  minds  of  the 
mass  of  mankind.  See  D'Aubigne,  Histoire  de  la  jR'iformation  du. 
Seizieme  Steele,  1.  i.  §  2 : — 

'  Pelage  pr^tendit  que  la  nature  humaine  n'est  point  dSchue, 
qu'il  n'y  a  point  de  corruption  h^reditaire,  et  qu'ayant  recu  le  pou- 
voir  de  faire  le  Men,  I'homme  n'a  qu'a  le  vouloir  pour  I'accomplir. 
Si  le  bien  consiste  en  quelques  actions  extgrieures  Pelage  a  raisou. 
Mais  si  Ton  regarde  aux  principes  d'ou  ces  actes  exterieurs  provi- 
cnnent,  alors  on  retrouve  partout  dans  I'homme  I'^goi'sme,  I'oubli 
de  Dieu,  la  souillure,  Timpuissance.  La  doctrine  pelagienne,  re- 
pouss^e  de  I'Eglise  pas  Augustin,  quand  elle  s'Stait  avancee  sous 
voile,  se  reprSsenta  bientot  d^guisee,  comme  semi-i)glagiauisme  et 
sour  le  masque  de  formules  augustiniennes.  L'erreur  se  r^pandit 
avec  une  rapidity  gtonnante,  dans  la  chretiente.  Le  danger  de  ce 
syst^me  se  manifesta  surtout,  de  ce  que,  mettant  le  bien  au-dehors 
et  non  au-dedans,  il  fit  attacher  un  grand  prix  k  des  oeuvres  extS- 


198  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

rieures,  a  des  observances  legales,  a  des  actes  de  penitence.  Plus 
on  faisait  dc  ces  i)ratiques,  plus  on  etait  saint ;  avcc  elles  on  ga- 
gnait  le  ciel,  et  bientot  on  crut  qu'il  existait  des  liommes  (id^e 
trfes-etonnante  assnrcnnent)  qui  allaient  en  saintete  an  delit  du  n^- 
cessaire, 

'  Le  pelagianisme,  en  meuie  temps  qu'il  corrompit  la  doctrine, 
fortifie  la  hierarcliie ;  de  la  meme  main  dont  il  abaissa  la  grace, 
il  eleva  I'Eglise :  car  la  grace  c'est  Dien,  et  r£glise  c'est  riiomme. 

'  Plus  nous  reconnaitrons  que  tout  le  monde  est  coupable  de- 
vant  Dieu,  plus  aussi  nous  nous  attaclierons  uniquement  -5.  Jesus- 
Christ,  comrae  a  la  seule  source  de  la  grace.  Comment  pourrions- 
nous  alors  placer  I'Eglise  sur  le  meme  rang  que  lui,  puisqu'elle 
n'est  qu'une  societe  d'hommes  pecheurs,  dont  il  est  seul  la  justice? 
Mais  dfes  que  nous  attribuons  a  I'liomme  une  saintete  propre,  un 
nitrite  personnel,  tout  cliange.  Les  eccl^siastiques,  les  moines, 
sont  consid§r6s  comme  les  moyens  les  plus  naturels  de  recevoir  les 
graces  de  Dieu.  Ce  fut  ce  qui  arriva  apres  Pelage.  Le  salut,  6t6 
des  mains  de  Dieu,  tomba  dans  la  main  des  pretres.  Ceux-ci  se 
mirent  ai  la  i^lace  du  Seigneur  ;  et  les  ames  avides  de  pardon  ne 
durent  plus  regarder  vers  le  ciel,  mais  vers  I'Eglise,  et  surtout  vers 
son  pretendu  clief.  Le  pontife  de  Rome  fat  en  place  de  Dieu  aux 
esprits  aveugles.'     .... 

Note  G.     Page  100. 

Dr.  Whateley,  in  a  volume  entitled  Lectures  and  lievieics,  has 
uttered  peremptorily  a  very  grave  and  important  dictum :  '  All 
experience  proves  that  men  left  in  the  lowest,  or  anything  ap- 
proaching to  the  lowest  degree  of  barbarism  in  which  they  can 
possibly  subsist  at  all,  never  did  and  never  can  raise  themselves 
unaidedly  into  a  higher  condition.'  At  the  present  day,  when  the 
presumed  discovery  of  the  vast  antiquity  of  man  seems  to  lead  at 
first  sight  to  the  conclusion  that  his  career  in  the  world  has  been 


NOTES   ANB   ILLUSTRATIOXS.  199 

one  of  slow  and  gradual  ascent  from  the  lowest  barbarism  to  his 
present  partial  civilization,  it  would  be  Avell  that  this  subject 
should  be  more  fully  developed,  and  that  efforts  should  be  made 
to  point  out  clearly  the  distinction  between  the  moral  and  mate- 
rial culture  of  man.  It  will  be  admitted  that  two  tribes  may  be 
very  much  on  a  par  with  one  another  in  their  notions  of  material 
comfort,  their  use  of  implements,  and  j)ower  over  the  forces  of  na- 
ture around  them,  and  at  the  same  time  may  widely  differ  in  their 
appreciation  of  moral  ideas.  It  may  appear  that  moral  culture  is 
almost  altogether  independent  of  material  progress.  Upon  this 
wide  and  difficult  subject  I  am  not  about  to  enter.  I  only  wish  to 
point  out  how  from  the  earliest  periods  at  which  we  can  trace  the 
moral  ideas  of  the  German  nations,  a  period  when  their  material 
culture  was  almost  as  low  as  any  we  read  of  in  history,  they  were 
imbued  with  the  very  same  principles  on  which  the  moral  civili- 
zation of  the  great  Caucasian  nations  has  generally  been  founded. 
Among  French  writers  there  has  been  a  somewhat  perverse  anxiety 
to  depress  the  character  of  their  Teutonic  neighbours,  and  relieve 
themselves  from  the  imputation  of  owing  any  portion  of  their  civ- 
ilization to  the  nations  east  of  the  Khine.  This  feeling  has  ap- 
peared in  many  ways,  among  various  classes  of  writers.  Among 
others,  M.  Guizot  has  produced  in  his  History  of  Civilization  in 
France  (lect.  vii.)  an  elaborate  argument  to  show  that  the  Teu- 
tonic tribes  of  Csesar  and  Tacitus  were  in  every  respect  the  exact 
counterpart  of  the  Ked  American  Indians,  not  only  in  their  mate- 
rial resources,  in  which  the  parallel  may  be  tolerably  correct,  but 
in  their  religious,  political,  and  social  ideas.  The  Germans,  on 
the  other  hand,  have  taken  up  the  defence  of  their  countrymen, 
and  impartial  students  such  as  Mr.  Greenwood  among  ourselves, 
and  M.  Ozanam,  though  himself  a  Frenchman,  and  not  an  unprej- 
udiced one,  have  declared  themselves  convinced  of  the  soundness 
of  their  reasonings. 

The  examination  which  this  last  writer  has  given  to  the  sub- 


200  XOTES    AND    ILLUSTEATIOXS. 

ject  in  his  Etudes  Gennaniques  {Les  Qermalns  avant  le  Christian' 
isme,  chap,  iii.)  may  be  considered  to  bear  with  some  force  upon 
the  question,  I  refer  the  reader  to  extracts  from  his  chapter  on 
the  laws  of  the  Germans,  which  give,  however,  a  very  incomplete 
view  of  the  argument : — 

'  Ce  combat  de  I'autoritS  et  de  la  liberty  fait  tout  I'interet  du 
sjDectacle  que  nous  clonnent  les  lois  des  Germains.  Rien  n'est  plus 
pathetique,  assurement,  qu'une  lutte  .d'oii  depend  la  creation  d'un 
grand  j)eu23le ;  rien  n'est  en  mSme  temps  plus  instructif.  Les  al- 
ternations dont  nous  serons  tSmoins  nous  feront  comprendre  les 
contradictions  des  historiens.  Nous  verrons  enfin,  des  deux  prin- 
cij^es  rivaux,  lequel  devait  rester  maitre  du  champ  de  bataille ;  s'il 
faut,  avec  quelques  Allemands,  reconnaitre  chez  les  belliqueux 
tribus  de  la  Germanic  le  triomphe  et  I'idSal  cVune  meme  soci^tS 
rgguli^re,  on  si  Ton  pent,  comme  un  grand  publiciste  fran9ais,  n'y 
apercevoir  qu\m  gtat  violent,  comjDarable  a  celui  des  Caraibes  et 
des  Iroquois.'  ^     {Etudes  Germ.  i.  106.) 

After  analysing  the  German  institutions  in  regard  to  per- 
son, property,  family,  and  government,  the  author  thus  sums 
up  :— 

'  Les  lois  de  I'ancienne  Germanie  ne  nous  sont  connues  que  par 
les  tSmoignages  incomplets  des  anciens,  par  la  redaction  tardive 
des  codes  l^arbares,  par  les  coutumes  du  moyen  age.  II  y  reste  done 
beaucoup  de  contradictions,  d'incertitudes,  et  de  lacunes.  Cepen- 
dant  nous  savons  assez  pour  reconnaitre  cette  grande  tentative  de 
toutes  les  legislations ;  il  s'agit  de  maitriser  la  personne  humaine, 
ce  qu'il  y  a  an  monde  de  plus  passionnS  et  de  plus  indomptable, 
et  de  la  faire  entrer  dans  la  societe,  c'est-a-dire,  dans  une  institu- 
tion inflexible  et  exigeantc.  L'oeuvre  6tait  difficile,  mais  les  moy- 
ens  ne  manquaient  pas.  II  existait  chez  les  Germains  une  autori- 
te  religieuse,  depositaire  de  la  tradition,  et  qui  y  trouvait  I'ideal 

1  '  Guizot,  Hist,  de  la  Civilisation  en  France^  t.  i.  (lect.  vii.),  et  pour  ropinion 
coutrairc,  llogge,  Ueher  das  Gerichtwesen  der  Gevmanen? 


NOTES    A^D    ILLUSTRATIONS .  201 

ct  le  principe  cle  tout  I'ordre  civil.  Cctte  autorit6  avait  cre6  la 
proiDrigte  immobili&re,  et  la  reuclait  respectable  par  les  rites  et  les 
symboles  :  ainsi  elle  fixait  I'homme  sur  iin  point  dii  sol  eutre  des 
limites  qu'il  n'osait  deplacer.  Elle  I'eiigageait  dans  les  liens  de  la 
famille  legitime,  consacree  par  la  saintete  du  mariage,  par  le  culte 
des  anc^tres,  par  la  solidarity  du  sang  ;  elle  renveloj)pait  dans  le 
corps  de  la  nation  sddentaire,  oii  elle  avait  6ta]jli  une  higrarcliie 
de  castes  et  de  pouvoirs,  a;  I'exemple  de  la  hierarchic  divine  de  la 
creation.  Apr^s  I'avoir  enferm§  dans  ce  triple  cercle,  elle  I'y  re- 
tenait  par  la  terreur  des  jugenients;  elle  lui  faisait  voir,  clerrifere 
les  magistrats  mortels,  les  dieux  eux-m8mes  armSs  j)our  la  defense 
de  la  i)aix  jDublique,  qui  6tait  leur  ouvrage.'  {Etudes  Germ.  i. 
146.) 

He  proceeds  to  institute  a  comparison  betvreen  the  jjrinciples 
of  German  law  and  those  of  Rome,  of  Greece,  and  of  India,  which 
he  thus  sums  up  : — 

'  Ainsi  I'unitg  de  la  race  indo-europSenne,  prouvee  par  les  mi- 
grations des  peuples,  par  la  comparaison  des  mythologies,  resulte 
encore  du  rapprochement  des  lois.  En  Germanic  comme  k  Rome, 
chez  les  Grecs  comme  en  Inde,  on  voit  les  menies  moyens  de  civil- 
isation, ou  plutot  tons  les  moyens  se  r^duisent  a  une  doctrine  tra- 
ditiounelle,  ou  chaque  institution  s'appuie  sur  un  dogme.  Assu- 
rement  c'est  un  grand  spectacle  en  des  temps  si  anciens  et  si  voi- 
sins  des  origines  du  monde,  de  trouver  deja;  les  idees  mattresses 
des  affaires ;  les  v^rites  invisibles  soutenant  les  choses  visibles, 
TEtat  gouverng  par  la  pensee  de  Dieu,  la  famille  par  le  souvenir 
des  morts,  I'homme  i^ar  I'interet  de  son  ame.  Ce  sont  des  croy- 
ances  bien  profoudement  enracinees  que  cette  inexplicable  repre- 
sentation du  p^re  par  ses  descendants,  cette  souillure  de  I'enfant 
nouveau-nS,  cette  d^ch^ance  de  la  femme,  qu'on  retrouve  au  fond 
de  toutes  les  soci^t^s  antiques.  Mais  dans  toutes  on  voit  aussi  les 
instincts  violents  qui  r^sistent  a;  I'effort  de  la  loi,  et  qui  x^oussent 
les  peuples  a  la  barbaric.     Partout  I'oppression  des  faibles,  Fappel 


202  KOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

aux  armes,  et  rhomme  chercliant  la  liberty  dans  la  vie  errante. 
On  a  demand^  quel  gtait  le  plus  ancien,  de  I'gtat  d'independance 
ou  de  I'^tat  de  societe,  Maintenant  je  crois  pouvoir  dire  que  tons 
deux  sont  aussi  anciens  que  le  nionde,  parce  que  tons  deux  ont 
leur  j)rincipe  dans  les  derni^res  profondeurs  de  la  nature  liumaine, 

qui  yeut  ^tre  libre,  mais  qui  ne  supporte  pas  la  solitude 

'  Mais  I'instinct  de  la  liberty  s'gtait  refugiS  cliez  les  peuples 
germaniques  ....  Enfin  ces  caract^res  gnergiques,  qui  ne 
savaient  pas  obeir,  mais  qui  savaient  se  devouer,  conservaient  un 
reste  de  dignite  bumaine,  une  ^tincelle  de  ce  sentiment  d'honneur 
que  les  autres  peuples  anciens  n'ont  jamais  Men  connu,  et  dont  le 
christianisme  devait  se  servir  pour  former  les  consciences,  et  pour 
fonder  sur  I'obeissance  raisonnable  tout  Tedifice  des  legislations 
modernes.'     {Etudes  Germaniques^  p.  167  foil.) 

It  would  seem  that  in  Teutonic  society,  as  far  as  we  can  trace 
it,  as  well  as  tbrougliout  tlie  otber  branches  of  the  Caucasian  stem, 
there  prevailed  an  instinct  of  civilization  which  made  itself  appar- 
ent— not,  i)erhaps,  by  material  signs,  but  in  the  moral  and  legal 
principles  on  which  it  rested.  This  instinct,  as  far  as  history 
enables  us  to  judge,  belongs  to  i^articular  races.  In  them  it  is 
innate,  and  not  acquired  ;  with  them  it  flourishes  and  developes 
itself;  but  even  by  them  it  can  be  but  partially  and  imperfectly 
communicated  to  the  races  which  are  naturally  destitute  of  it. 
If  such  be  the  fact,  it  militates  strongly  against  the  notion,  so 
popular  at  the  present  day,  that  all  mankind  are  gradually  ad- 
vancing in  moral  and  material  prosj)erity,  and  that  (starting 
originally  from  a  common  depth  of  barbarism)  the  leaders  in 
modern  civilization  are  only  those  races  which  have  liad  the  best 
opportunities,  or  been  most  active  or  fortunate  in  the  use  of 
them. 


KOTES    AXD   ILLUSTEATIOXS.  203 


XoTE  H.     Pao-e  103. 


I  would  refer  the  reader,  on  the  subject  of  the  analogies  between 
the  Teutonic  mythologies  and  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  in  the  first 
jDlace,  to  the  full  and  careful  work  of  Kraflft,  Die  Anfange  der 
GhristUcJien  Kirclie  lei  der  GermaniscTien  Vollern.  The  Edda  con- 
tains, it  seems,  many  statements  which  correspond  curiously  with 
the  stories  of  Adam's  sleep,  of  the  flood,  of  the  ark,  and  of  the 
rainbow  of  jDromise.  These  statements,  he  asserts,  cannot  have 
been  borrowed  from  the  Hebrew  Scriptures ;  they  must  be  referred 
to  a  common  origin  with  them  in  primitive  tradition,  such  as  may 
be  traced  in  the  mythologies  of  various  other  nations.  But,  he 
adds,  '  Das,  was  die  germanische  Mythologie  auf  Grund  der  Edda- 
lehre  auszeichnet,  ist  der  geistige  Gehalt  und  die  durch  das  ganze 
System  sich  hindurchziehende  religiose  sittUcJie  Tendetiz,  durch 
welche  cliese  Mythologie  als  eine  hochst  eigenthlimliche  Entwick- 
elung  des  sich  selbst  liberlassenen  menschlichen  Geistes  der  cJirist- 
lichen  Offeiibarung  vorbereitend  die  Wege  gebalmt  Tiat?     (P.  :jj43.) 

This  tendency  he  proceeds  to  examine  at  length. 

But  the  reader  will  be  more  interested  in  the  conclusions  on 
the  same  subject  presented  to  him  by  a  livelier  and,  I  think,  an 
equally  intelligent  writer,  M.  Ozanam,  in  the  Etudes  Germaniqxies^ 
to  which  I  have  before  referred  him.     (See  t.  i.  p.  96.) 

'  Ces  indications  de  la  mythologie  s'accordent  avec  celles  de 
I'histoire  pour  faire  descendre  les  Germains  de  ces  contr^es  cau- 
casiennes  qui  virent  naitre  aussi  la  civilisation  persane,  voisine  de 
I'Inde,  de  r£gypte,  et  de  la  Grece,  et  qui  semblent  le  premier  sanc- 
tuaire  des  religions  savantes. 

'  Mais  les  religions  savantes,  le  dualisme,  le  pantheisme,  ou- 
vrages  laborieux  de  I'esprit,  qui  voulurent  de  I'art  et  du  temps,  ne 
reiDresentent  point  le  premier  6tat  de  la  tradition.  Aufond  de  ces 
syst^mes,  il  faut  chercher  ce  qu'ils  j)roposent  d'expliquer,  ce  qui 
est  plus  ancien  qu'eux,  et  sans  quoi  les  peuples  memes  ne  seraient 


204:  NOTES    AND    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

pas,  c'est-S-dire,  im  petit  uombre  de  dogmes  qui  fixent  avec  sim- 
plicitS  les  destinies  liumaiiies.  Je  crois  distinguer  ces  dogmes 
primitifs  dans  la  tradition  du  Nord.  C'est  d'alDord  une  divinite 
souverainc  dont  le  nom  d^signe  une  nature  spirituclle,  qu'aucune 
image  ne  pent  figurer,  aucun  temple  contenir.  C'est  une  trinity 
qui  jDaraifc  dans  les  trois  cliefs  des  Ases  :  Odin,  Vili,  et  Ye  ;  dans 
les  trois  personnages  divins  adores  a  Upsal :  Thor,  Odin,  et  Freyr  ; 
dans  les  trois  noms  qu'invoquaient  les  Saxons  et  les  Francs  :  Do- 
nar,  Wodan,  et  Saxnot.  C'est  un  age  d'or  oii  tout  vivait  en  paix, 
jusqu'a  ce  que  le  crime  d'une  femme  introduisit  le  d^sordre  et  la 
mort.  Ici,  peut-etre,  se  rattaclient  cl'autres  souvenirs :  I'arbre  sym- 
bolique  plants  au  centre  de  la  terre,  le  priucipe  du  mal  prenant  la 
figure  d'un  serjaent,  le  deluge  ou  la  premiere  generation  des  me- 
diants fut  dgtruite.  Le  destin  du  raonde  roule  sur  Timmolation 
du  Dieu-victime,  qui  ne  subit  la  mort  que  pour  la  vaincre.  Enfin 
tout  aboutit  aujugement  des  ^mes,  et  ^  I'autre  vie  sanctionnant 
les  devoirs  de  celle-ci.  Ces  peuples  violents,  qui  ont  liorreur  de 
toute  d^pendance,  conservent  dans  leui:s  chants  les  prgccptes  d'une 
morale  bienfaisante ;  ils  se  soumettent  aux  assujettissements,  aux 
humiliations  volontaires  du  culte,  de  la  pri^-e,  du  sacrifice..  C'est 
le  fonds  myst^rieux  sur  lequel  toutes  les  religions  rcposent.  En 
ouvrant  les  livres,  en  comparant  les  monuments  de  toutes  les  na- 
tions qui  ont  laiss6  une  trace  dans  I'histoire,  on  y  verrait  disper- 
ses, mais  reconnaissables,  les  m^mes  dogmes  de  I'unite,  de  la  trin- 
ity, de  la  dgcheance,  de  I'expiatiou  par  un  Dieu  Sauveur,  de  la  vie 
future.  Les  m^mes  prSceptes  y  seraieut  soutenus  des  mSmes  insti- 
tutions. Ces  iciees,  partout  corrompues  et  troubl6es,  retrouvent 
leur  purete  et  leur  cnchainement  naturel  dans  les  souvenirs  de  la 
Bible.  C'est  Ik  que  je  reconnais  une  tradition  primitive,  un  en- 
seignement  divin,  qui  fit  la  premiere  education  de  la  raison  hu- 
maine,  et  sans  lequel  I'homme  naissant,  pressS  j^^i*  ties  besoins 
sans  nombre,  entourg  de  toutes  les  menaces  du  monde  ext^rieur, 
ae  se  filt  jamais  eieve  aux  connaissances  qui  font  la  vie  morale.' 


KOTES   A2s'D   ILLUSTEATIONS.  205 

I  have  pointed  to  the  Gothic  conception  of  life  as  a  conflict, 
with  its  bearing  on  Christian  doctrine.  This  conception  follows 
from  the  nature  of  Odin,  the  greatest  of  the  gods,  the  father  of  all, 
the  author  of  life,  of  wisdom,  and  of  victory.  His  great  conflict, 
past  and  future,  was  with  the  giants  :  but  this  conflict  assumed  a 
moral  significance. 

'  Auch  der  Mensch  wurde  gleich  von  Anfang  in  diesen  Kampf 
hineiugestellt.  Seine  Bestimmung  war  nicht  bloss,  die  Natur 
rings  um  sich  her  zu  bekampfen  und  ihre  wilden  ungebandigten 
Krafte  sich  dienstbar  zu  machen,  sondern  der  Mensch  sollte  auch 
die  von  Loki  empfangene  Mitgift,  die  Sinnlichkeit,  liberwinden, 
und  der  Geist  im  Kampfe  mit  ihr  die  Oberhand  gewinnen.  Kampf 

war  also  die  Bestimmung  des  menschlichen  Lebens 

Daher  erhielt  das  ganze  Leben  der  germanischen  Stiimme  seinen 
kriegerischen  Character.  Odin,  der  Gott  des  Geistes,  der  AUes 
durchdringende  und  belebende  Geist,  wurde  zum  Kricgsgott,  dem 
die  hochste  Yerehrung  erwiesen  wurde.  Er  ist  es,  der  den  Hel- 
clen  mit  kriegerischem  Geiste  erfiillt.  Die  auf  dem  Kampfplatze 
gefallenen  Helden  leben  wieder  auf,  da  Odin  sie  wieder  beseelt. 
.  .  .  .  Die  gefallenen  Helden  werden  nacli  Walhalla  gefiihrt.' 
{Krafft,  p.  157.) 

The  legend  of  Balder,  which  is  narrated  in  the  various  Eddas 
with  some  discrepancies  of  detail,  but  the  Christian  significance  of 
which  cannot  be  mistaken,  shall  be  told  by  M.  Ozanam  {Etudes,  i. 
p.  52)  :- 

'  La  puissance  des  Ases  est  assurSe  tant  que  vivra  Balder,  fils 
d'Odin,  le  plus  beau  d'entre  eux,  le  plus  doux  et  le  plus  pur. 
Rien  d'immonde  n'est  soufiert  en  sa  presence  ;  rien  d'injuste  ne  re- 
siste  a  ses  jugements.  Mais  des  songes  sinistres  Pavertissent  de  sa 
fin  prochaine.  Une  antique  prophetesse  se  reveille  dans  son  tom- 
beau  pour  prgdire  la  mort  de  Balder.  La  m^re  du  jeune  dieu  veut 
conjurer  le  sort ;  elle  demande  a  toutes  les  creatures  le  serment 
d'gpargner  son  fils.      Le  feu,  I'eau,  le  fer,  les  pierres  I'ont  promis  : 


206  XOTES   AXD   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

une  seule  plante,  la  plus  faible  de  toutes,  le  gui,  oublie  2)ar  la  cle- 
esse,  n'a  rien  jur6.  Loki  la  cueille,  et  la  met  dans  les  mains  de 
Hteder,  fr^re  de  Balder,  mais  qui  naquit  aveugle.  Pendant  que 
les  Ases  rassembles  gprouvent  I'impassibilite  de  Balder  en  lui  i)or- 
taut  des  couj^s  qui  ne  le  blessent  point,  Taveugle  frappe  a;  son 
tour :  Balder,  atteint  du  trait  fatal,  tombe  et  rend  le  dernier  soupir 
En  vain  Fun  des  Ases  descend  cliez  Hela  pour  lui  proposer  le  ran- 
90U  du  trepassS  :  I'inexorable  d6esse  veut  pour  ran9on  une  larme 
de  cliaque  creature.  Toutes  les  creatures  pleurent  en  eflfet :  les 
hommes  j^leurent,  les  animaux  pleurent,  les  arbres  pleurent,  et  les 
rocliers  avec  eux.  Seule,  une  fille  des  geants  ne  veut  pas  plem-er, 
et  Balder  reste  cliez  les  morts. 

'  Rien  ne  suspend  plus  le  destin  qui  menace  le  monde.  Un 
sifecle  de  fer  viendra,  le  si^cle  des  haclies  et  des  gpSes,  ou  les  bou- 
cliers  seront  brises,  ou  les  adulteres  seront  frequents,  ou  le  fr^re 

tuera  son  fr^re En  ce  temps  Loki  rassemblera   les 

grants  et  les  esprits  des  t^n^bres.  Le  loup  Fenris  rompra  sa 
cliame,  le  serpent  qui  enveloppe  la  terre  se  tordra  de  fureur.  .  .  . 

'Alors  Odin  s'armera;  il  rassemblera  autour  de  lui  les  Ases,  les 
Alfes  lummeux,  les  hgros  de  la  Valhalla.  La  derniere  bataille 
s'engagera ;  mais  il  faut  que  les  puissances  ennemies  I'emportent. 

Odin  sera  d6vorg  par  le  loup C'est  le  moment  fatal 

que  les  chants  sacr^s  ont  appel6  la  nuit  des  dieux 

'Mais  cette  nuit  aura  son  lendemain.  Un  soleil  plus  jeune  re- 
viendra  eclairer  le  monde.  .  .  .  Tons  les  maux  cesseront.  Balder 
reparaitra  accompagug  des  fils  d'Odin  et  de  Thor.  lis  reviendront 
habiter  lespalais  de  leurs  p^res,  au  lieu  ou  s'elevait  I'ancien  Asgard  ; 
et  la  ils  mgditeront  les  grandes  choses  du  temps  passg  et  les  mines 
du  Dieu  souveruin.' 


NOTES    AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  207 

Note  L     Page  106. 

The  statements  early  advanced  by  Justin  Martyr  and  Tertullian 
of  tlie  spread  of  Christianity  among  the  Germans  are  too  rhetorical 
in  their  character  to  have  much  weight. 

S.  Justin  M,,  Dial,  cum  TrijpTi.^  §  117.  ovSe  kv  yap  ulug  icrl  to 
yivog  avdpunuv^  elre  (3apj3dpo)v  elre  'E^h'/vuv^  sirs  dri  Awf  (Jrtvi  ovv  bvdfiari 
Tzpoaayopevofiivuv^  y  diia^o(3io)v  tj  cioikuv  Kalovfiivav,  f]  kv  aKrjvaiq  Krrjvo-p6- 
^cjv  oIkovvtuv,  kv  olf  p,?)  did  rov  bvoparog  too  CTavpudevroq  'I?^gov  evxdt  Kal 
evxapiartac  tC>  Jlarpl  Koi  ILoirjr^  tuv  hluv  yivovrai. 

Tertullian,  Adv.  Judceos,  c.  7.  '  Etiam  Gnetulorum  varietates 
et  Maurorum  multi  fines,  Hisi^aniarum  omnes  termini,  et  Gallia- 
rum  diversas  nationes,  et  Britannorum  inaccessa  liomanis  loca, 
Christo  vero  subdita,  et  Sarmatarum,  et  Dacorum  et  Germanorum 
et  Scytharum,  ....  in  quibus  omnibus  locis  Christi  nomen, 
qui  jam  venit,  regnet.' 

But  the  testimony  of  Irenseus,  who  lived  himself  in  the  centre 
of  Gaul,  is  undoubtedly  entitled  to  more  deference : — 

Adv.  Hcer.  i.  10.  kol  ovts  al  kv  Tsppaviaig  Idpvpkvai  kKK?i?]Giat  dyi?Mg 
~E-tGT€vKaacv,  fj  d?JMg  TrapaScSoaaiv  ovre  kv  raig  'Il^/jpialg,  ovre  kv  KeAroZf, 
oure  Kara  rag  dvaTo?Mg^  ovre  kv  A'lyvTTTC)^  ovre  kv  AifiuiJ,  ovre  al  Kara  pica 
rov  Kocpov  idpvpkvai.  So  also  Arnobius,  Adv.  Gent.  i.  16  : — '  Si  Ala- 
mannos,  Persas,  Scythas  idcirco  voluerunt  devinci  quod  habitarent 
in  eorum  finibus  Christiani.'  From  this  period  the  fact  becomes 
generally  recognised,  and  is  referred  to  by  S,  Athanasius,  S.  Chrys- 
ostom,  &c.  At  the  Council  of  Nice,  a  seat  was  taken  by  The- 
ophilus,  Bishop  of  the  Goths,  or  Gothia. 

Christianity  seems  to  have  been  first  widely  spread  in  the 
north  by  the  Roman  captives  carried  oflf  during  the  disastrous 
wars  of  the  third  centm-y.  So  Sozomen,  Hist.  Ecdes.  ii.  6. 
i/dr]  yap  rd  re  dp(pl  rov  'P-^vov  (pvXa  kxpi'fyTidvil^ov.  .  .  .  Tzdat  6e  fiap^d- 
poig  cx^dbv  Trpo^aaig  avvkjSTj  TrpeajSeiieiv  rb  66ypa  ruv  XpiariavcJv  ol  yevdpe- 
vol  Kara  Kaipbv  rcolepoi.  .  .  .  ttoTJmI  tuv  iepkuv  rov  Xpiarov  alxfia^- 
rot  yevopevoi  gvv  avrfig  yaav^  ug  6k  rovg  avrodi  voaovvrag  \o)vro^     .     .     . 


208  NOTES   AND   ILLrSTEATIOXS. 

Tipoaht  de  Kal  7ro?.iTe}av  a[iejx~Tov  k(l)i7ioG6(j)Ovv.  .  .  .  -^avaacavreQ  ol 
(3apl3apoi  rovg  avSpag  rov  jStov  nal  ruvjrapadd^cjv  epyuv  ev(ppoveIv  avveidov^ 
.  .  .  'npOi3a?J.6jiievoi  ovv  avrovg  rov  TrpaKreov  Ka6?jyf/Tac,  kdiddaKovro  Kal 
kjiaTTTil^ovTo,  Koi  ciKalovdidQ  suKh/maCov.  Philostorgius  specified  more 
IDarticularly  tlie  results  of  the  victories  of  tlie  Goths  over  Valerian 
and  Gallienns,  Hist.  Eccles.  ii.  5. 

Ozanam,  Etudes  Oermaniqiies,  li.  p.  22 : — 

'  Mais  parmi  les  captifs  que  les  vainqueurs  chassaient  devant 
eux,  plusieurs  portferent  le  christianisme  aux  foyers  de  leurs  mai- 
tres.  D'ailleiirs,  comment  les  Goths,  enrolls  soils  les  aigles  de 
Tempire,  auraient-ils  resists  aux  progr^s  d'uue  doctrine  qui  avait 
gagne  les  legions,  surtout  quand  ils  virent  la  croix  sur  les  drapeaax, 
quand  enfin  quarante  mille  d'entre  eux  combattirent  pour  Con- 
stantin  dans  la  fameuse  journ^e  qui  ren versa  tout  ensemble  la  for- 
tune de  Licinius  et  le  r^gne  du  paganisme  ?  L'eglise  des  Goths 
grandit  dans  I'ombre;  on  I'a  vue  dSja  representee  jjar  I'Sy^que 
ThGopliile  au  concile  de  Nicee.  Bientot  apr^s  jDarait  Ulphilas, 
qui  tient  un  moment  dans  ses  mains  toutes  les  destinies  religieuses 
de  son  i^euple.  On  ne  salt  rien  des  commencements  de  cetliomme 
extraordinaire,  sinon  qu'il  descendait  d'une  famille  chretienne  en- 
levee  de  la  petite  ville  de  Sadagolthina  en  Cappadoce  par  les 
Goths,  qui  la  saccagferent  en  266,  et  que  ce  fils  adoptif  des  bar- 
bares,  le  Jils  de  la  louve  (Wulfilas),  comme  ils  I'appelaient,  (3tait 
compatriote  et  peut-etre  parent  de  I'historien  grec  Philostorge. 
II  gvang^lisait  les  Visigoths  de  la  Mesie,  de  la  Dacie  et  de  la 
Thrace,  quand  il  devint  leur  eveque  vers  348,  et  se  rendit  en  cette 
quality  au  concile  tenu  en  360  a  Constantinople  par  les  Ariens,  qui 
surprisent  son  adhesion,  sans  le  detacher  nganmoins  de  Fortho- 
doxie.  {Sozomen.  vi.  37.)  C'est  alors  que,  frappg  de  la  majestg 
des  C6sars,  il  put  concevoir  le  dessein  de  donner  a;  son  apostolat 
le  dangereux  appui  de  leur  6pge.  Deux  partis  divisaient  les  Visi- 
goths. L'un  obeissait  a  Athanaric,  I'autre  a  Fritigern.  Apr^sune 
lutte  in^gale,  Fritigern  invoqua  rintervention  de  I'empire  ;  Uli^hi- 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  209 

las  scmble  en  avoir  uegoci6  les  conditions.  Les  tribus  menacees 
se  soumirent  au  bapteme,  re9urent  des  secours,  marcli^rent  contre 
Athanaric  et  fiirent  victorieuses.  Depuis  ce  jour,  rien  ne  r^sista 
plus  a  la  predication  d'Ulpliilas.  II  aclieva  son  ceuvre  par  la  tra- 
duction des  saintes  ^critures,  monument  c61ebre  et  rests  jusqu'a 
nous.  C'Stait  fixer  le  christianisme  dans  la  nation  que  de  le  fixer 
dans  la  langue.  L'gveque  s'en  rendit  maitre,  et  la  for9a  d'obSii'  a 
la  pensSe  chretienne ;  il  contraignit  cette^^parole  sanguinaire  ^  r6- 
peter  les  psaumes  de  David,  les  jDaraboles  evangeliques,  la  thSolo- 
gie  de  saint  Paul.  Mais  il  ne  traduisit  point  les  livres  des  Rois, 
de  peur  que,  la  lettre  tuant  I'esprit,  les  rScits  sacrSs  ne  servissent 
qu'a  rSveiller  les  guerriferes  de  ses  barbares.  [Waitz,  in  tbe  prole- 
gomena to  liis  recent  edition  of  the  Gotliic  version  of  Ulpliilas, 
throws  some  doubt  on  tliis  venerable  tradition,  which  we  may 
owe  to  a  sentimental  fancy  of  Philostorgius.]  L'alphabet  ruuique, 
usit6  chez  les  Goths,  avait  suffi  a  tracer  des  presages  sur  les  bagu- 
ettes superstitieuses  ou  des  mscriptions  sur  les  sepultures :  il  fal- 
lut  le  completer  pour  un  usage  plus  savant,  et  le  nombre  des  let- 
tres  fut  porte  de  seize  a  vingt-quatre.  La  langue  gothique, 
fa9onnee  de  la  sorte,  prit  un  singulier  caract^re  de  douceur  et  de 
majeste.  On  put  voir  que  les  grandes  qualitgs  des  idiomes  clas- 
siques  ne  pSriraient  pas  avec  eux  ;  et  la  traduction  de  la  Bible,  ce 
livre  eternel,  commen9a  la  premiere  des  litteratures  modernes. 
Quand  Ulphilas  parut,  i^eut-Gtre  aprfes  une  longue  retraite,  radieux 
de  saintete,  apportant  I'ancien  et  le  nouveau  testament  au  peuple 
campS  dans  les  plaines  de  la  Mgsie,  on  crut  qu'il  descendait  du 
Sinai ;  les  Grecs  Tappel^rent  le  Moise  de  son  temps,  et  c'etait 
Topinion  des  barbares  "  que  le  fils  de  la  louve  ne  pouvait  faire 
mal." ' 

KoTE  J.     Page  107. 

Among  the  Epistolse  Criticse  of  S.  Jerome  (106)  occurs  a  letter 
in  reply  to  two  correspondents  among  the  Goths,  Sunnia,  and  Fre- 
U 


210  NOTES    AND   ILLUSTKATIONS. 

tela,  who  inquired  of  liim  concerning  some  discrepancies  they  had 
observed  in  the  circulated  versions  of  the  Psalms : — 

'  Vere  in  vobis  a230stolicus  et  propheticus  sermo  completus  est : 
in  omnem  terram  exiit  sonus  eorum  et  in  fines  terrso  verba  eorum 
(Psalm,  xviii.  5  ;  Eom.  x.  18).  Quis  hoc  crederet  ut  barbara  Ge- 
tarum  lingua  Hebraicam  quj^reret  veritatem,  et  dormitantibus, 
immo  contendentibus  Grsscis,  ipsa  Germania  Sj^iritus  Sancti  elo- 
quia  scrutaretur  ?  In  veritate  cognovi  quod  non  est  joersonarum 
acceptor  Deus ;  sed  in  omni  gente  qui  timet  Deum  et  operatur 
justitiam  acceptus  est  illi.  Dudum  callosa  tenendo  capulum 
manus,  et  digiti  tractandis  sagittis  aptiores,  ad  stilum  calamumque 
consuescunt ;  et  bellicosa  pectora  vertuntur  in  mansuetudinem 
Christianam.  Nunc  et  Isaisa  vaticinium  credimus  esse  completum ; 
concident  gladios  suos  in  aratra,  et  lanceas  suas  in  falces  ;  et  non 
sumet  gens  contra  gentem  gladium,  et  non  discent  pugnare.'  (Isai. 
ii.  4.) 

In  the  E]}ist.  57  (107)  ad  Lcetam  he  speaks  in  glowing  terms  of 
the  spread  of  the  Gospel : — '  Deposuit  pharetras  Armenius  ;  Hunni 
discunt  Psalterium ;  Scythice  frigora  fervent  calore  fidei ;  Getarum 
rutilus  et  flavus  exercitus  ecclesiarum  circumfert  tentoria ;  et  ideo 
forsitan  contra  nos  sequa  pugnant  acie,  quia  pari  religione  confi- 
dunt.' 

Comp.  Athanasius  De  Imam.  Verdi,  sub  fin.  Eusebius,  Vit. 
Constant,  iv.  5.     Chrysostom,  Horn.  viii. 

Note  K.    Page  118. 

Among  both  Christians  and  Pagans  the  first  capture  of  Eome 
(by  Alaric,  a.d.  410)  was  regarded  as  the  turning-point  in  the  prov- 
idential government  of  God.  Thenceforth  the  Pagans  could  no 
longer  maintain  'that  the  the  empire  was  under  the  special  protec- 
tion of  the  deities  of  the  old  mythology.  This  point  was  defini- 
tively settled.    But,  on  the  other  hand,  might  not  the  disasters  of 


NOTES   AND   ILLrSTKATIONS.  211 

the  empire,  now  professedly  Christian,  be  supposed  to  impeach 
the  favour  of  the  God  of  the  Christians  ?  It  was  the  great  object 
of  the  apologists  of  the  fifth  century  to  parry  this  conclusion.  In 
this  cause  they  made  no  doubt  many  hardy  assertions,  and  uttered 
some  loose  declamation ;  and  modern  historians  have  been  more 
or  less  afiected  by  their  personal  prejudices  in  judging  of  the  tes- 
timony of  facts.  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  refer  on  this  point  to  the 
summing-up  of  IVIr.  Greenwood,  whose  moderation  and  good  sense 
are  as  conspicuous  as  his  diligence.  {History  of  the  Germans^  i.  p. 
383,  foil.) 

'  It  is  impossible  to  withhold  our  praise  from  the  temper  in 
which  Alaric  approached  Rome.  Every  precaution  was  taken  to 
restrict,  as  much  as  possible,  the  bloodshed  and  destruction  which, 
in  case  of  capture  by  storm,  could  not  be  wholly  prevented.  It 
was  strictly  enjoined  that  the  lives  of  ail  who  took  refuge  within 
the  churches,  and  more  i^articularly  within  the  sacred  precincts 
of  the  Basilicas  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  should  be  spared ;  and 
that  in  the  pursuit  of  plunder  the  warriors  should  abstain  from 
needless  outrage  or  vengeful  slaughter.  It  is  generally  admitted 
by  contemporary  historians,  that  the  character  of  Alaric  was  not 
incapable  of  moderate,  or  even  generous  views,  and  the  ecclesias- 
tical writers  seem  to  assume  that  his  conduct  on  this  occasion  was 
at  least  as  much  directed  by  religious  and  reverential  feelings  as 
by  resentment,  or  the  hope  of  temporal  advantage.^  On  the  night 
of  the  20th  of  August,  four  hundred  and  ten  years  after  Christ,  a 
successful  assault  upon  the  Salarian  gate  delivered  the  ancient 
capital  of  the  civilized  world  into  the  hands  of  a  barbarian  con- 
queror.' No  one  can  doubt  that,  in  spite  of  the  authority  of  Ala- 
ric, and  the  religious  prepossessions  of  his  followers,  much  blood 
was  spilt,  and  that  very  many  of  those  enormities  which  attend 
upon  a  successful  storm  must  have  occurred  on  this  memorable 

1  Orosius,  vii.  35;  Augustin,  De  Civit.  Dei,  i.  1. 

2  Procop.  De  Sell.  Vandal,  i.  p.  7,  edit.  Grotii. 


212  KOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

occasion  ;  but  if  the  jDroper  allowance  be  made  for  tlie  impression 
tlie  event  itself  was  calculated  to  produce,  and  for  the  character  of 
the  assailants,  we  think  the  amount  of  suffering  inflicted  and  en- 
dured will  be  reduced  far  below  what  might  have  been  expected. 
When  the  first  rumour  of  this  stupefying  calamity  was  spread 
abroad  in  the  Roman  world,  we  naturally  expect  to  find  its  echo 
a  thousand  times  repeated,  in  every  form  of  horror  and  exaggera- 
tion with  which  ignorant  alarm  could  invest  it.  And  in  truth, 
St.  Jerome  at  Bethlehem,  and  St.  Augustin  in  Africa,  shook  the 
Christian  world  with  fearful  announcements  of  cruelty,  and 
slaughter,  and  unutterable  abominations.^  It  is  by  no  means  sur- 
prising that  these  zealous  men  should  have  availed  themselves  to 
the  full  extent  of  the  impression  such  an  event  could  not  fail  to 
jjroduce,  to  reprove  sin,  to  denounce  the  Divine  vengeance  against 

a  weak  and  vicious  generation But  when  the  true 

character  of  the  calamity  became  better  known,  these  good  men  at 
once  dropped  the  language  of  denunciation.^  Even  in  the  height 
of  unbridled  pillage,  we  are  told,  the  captors  religiously  respected 
the  churches,  their  ornaments,  treasures,  and  furniture ;  the  lives 
of  all  who  took  refuge  within  the  sacred  precincts  Avere  spared ; 
St.  Jerome  and  Orosius  adduce  remarkable  instances  of  forbear- 
ance to  their  credit,  and  St.  Augustine  di'aws  an  eloquent  parallel 
between  their  conduct  and  that  of  the  Romans.'  ^     .     .     .     . 

Of  the  mission  of  S.  Leo  to  Attila  about  forty  years  later,  which 

1  See  particularly  S.  Jerome's  Letter  to  Principia  (Ej).  96,  p.  7S3)  and  Gaudentia 
(Ep.  93,  p.  799).  Comp.  Augustin,  Be  Excidio,  &c.,  c.  2,  p.  330 ;  De  Clvit.  Dei,  lib.  i. 
c.  7 ;  Opera,  torn.  vii.  p.  6. 

-  'Quicquid  ergo,'  says  S.  Augustin  (loo.  mod.  cit),  'vastationis,  trucidationis,  de- 
prtedationis,  concremationis,  afflictionis,  in  ista  recentissima  Eomana  clade  commissum 
est,  fuit  hoc  consuetude  hellorum.'  .  .  .  The  whole  chapter  bears  strong  testimony 
to  the  moderation  of  the  Goths,  and  expresses  Augustin's  conviction  that  it  -was  alone 
attributable  to  the  benign  influence  of  Christianity. 

8  S.  Jerome  Ad  Frincipiam,  Orosius,  lib.  vii.  c.  89 ;  Augustin,  Be.  Civ.  Bei,  lit. 
iii.  c.  29. 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  213 

resulted  in  the  diversion  of  the  Hiins  from  another  attack  on 
Rome,  a  writer  of  genius  has  given  a  striking  picture  from  mate- 
rials which,  it  must  be  confessed,  are  painfully  meagre.  See  M. 
Amgd^e  Thierry,  Histoire  d''Attila,  i.  p.  206.  '  Dans  tous  les  con- 
seils  du  prince,  du  s6nat  et  du  peuple  romain,  dit  avec  une  amere 
raillerie  le  chroniqueur  Prosper  d'Aquitaine,  temoin  des  ev^ne- 
ments,  rien  ne  parut  plus  salutaire  que  d'implorer  la  paix  de  ce  roi 
Kroce.  Le  silence  de  I'histoire  justifie  dn  moins  Aetius  de  toute 
participation  a;  un  acte  aussi  honteux.  A  la  tete  de  son  armee  et 
mSditant,  selon  toute  apparence,  le  plan  de  defense  des  Apennins, 
le  patrice  s'occupait  de  sauver  Rome :  elle  ne  le  consulta  pas  jDour 
se  livrer.  Cependant,  afin  de  couvrir  autant  que  possible  I'ignomi- 
uie  de  la  n^gociation  par  I'^minence  du  n^gociateur,  on  choisit  pour 
chef  de  Tambassade  le  successeur  m^me  de  saint  Pierre,  le  pape 
Leon,  auquel  furent  adjoints  deux  senateurs  illustres,  dont  I'uu, 
nommg  Genijadius  AviSnus,  prgteudait  descendre  de  Valerius  Cor- 
vinus,  et,  suivant  I'expression  de  Sidoine  xipollinaire,  "  gtait  jDrince 
apr^s  le  prince  qui  portait  la  pourpre." 

'  Lgon,  que  I'Sglise  romaine  a  surnommg  le  Grand,  et  FSglise 
grecque  le  Sage,^  occupait  alors  le  si^ge  apostolique  avec  un  gel  at 
de  talent  et  une  autoritg  de  caract^re  qui  imposaient  meme  aux 
paiens.  Les  gens  lettr^s  le  proclamaient,  par  un  singulier  abus  de 
langage,  le  Cic^ron  de  la  chaire  catholique,  I'Hom^re  de  la  thgolo- 
gie,  et  I'Aristote  de  la  foi ; "  les  gens  du  monde  apiDreciaient  en  lui 
ce  parfait  accord  des  qualites  intellectuelles  que  son  biographe  ap- 
pelle,  avec  un  assez  grand  bonheur  d'expression,  "  la  sant6  de  I'es- 
prit,"  ^  savoir,  une  intelligence  ferme,  simple  et  toujours  droits,  et 
ime  rare  finesse  de  vue,  unie  au  don  de  persuader,      Ces  qualites 

^  TTCivao^oQ.     Vit.  S.  Leon.  Magn.  ap.  Boll.  11  Apr. 

2  Sunt  virl  auctoritate  graves  .  .  .  qui  Leonem  non  vereantur  appellare  eccle- 
siasticas  dictionls  Tullium,  theologise  Homerum,  rationum  fidci  Aristotelem.— J<Z.  ibid. 

3  Tanta  in  Leone  tamque  mirabilis  ingenii  faeilitas,  tanta  sanitas,  tantaque  prtesen- 
tifl,— /£?.  ibid. 


214  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

aTaient  fait  de  Leon  uii  uegociateur  utile  dans  les  choses  du  sifecle, 
en  mgme  temps  que  pasteur  Eminent  dans  I'gglise.  II  n'^tait  en- 
core que'diacre,  lorsqu'en  440  il  plut  a  la  riagente  Placidie  de  I'en- 
yoyer  dans  les  Gaules  iDour  apaiser,  entre  Aetius  et  un  des  grands 
fonctionnaires  de  cette  pr§fecture  nommS  Albinus,  une  querelle 
naissante,  qui  pouvait  conduire  a  la  guerre  civile  et  embraser  tout 
roccident.  Leon,  arrive  avec  la  seule  recommandation  de  sa  -per- 
sonne,  parvint  a  reconcilier  deux  rivaux  qui  passaient  ^  bon  droit 
pour  peu  traitables,  et  pendant  ce  temps-la  le  peuple  et  le  clergS 
de  Rome,  a  qui  a^Dpartenait  I'glection  des  papes,  I'glevaient  a  la 
chaire  pontificale,  quoiqu'il  ne  fut  pas  encore  pr^tre,  tant  ses  ver- 
tus,  dans  I'estime  publique,  marcliaient  de  pair  avec  ses  talents. 
Depuis  lors  il  n'avait  fait  que  grandir  en  experience  et  en  savoir 
par  la  pratique  des  affaires  de  Feglise,  qui  embrassaient  un  grand 
nombre  d-'intSrSts  s^culiers.  L'liistoire  nous  le  peint  comme  un 
vieillard  d'une  haute  taille  et  d'une  physionomie  noble  que  sa 
longue  clievelure  blanche  rendait  plus  venerable. ^  C^^tait  sur  lui 
que  I'empereur  et  le  s^nat  comptaient  principalement  pour  arr^ter 
le  terrible  Attila.  II  n'y  avait  pas  jusqu'^  son  nom  de  Leo,  lion, 
qui  ne  semblat  d'un  favorable  augure  pour  cette  nggociatiou  diffi- 
cile ;  et  le  i)eu23le  lui  appliquait  comme  une  prophetic  le  verset 
suivant  des  proverbes  de  Salomon:  "Le  juste  est  un  lion  qui  ne 
connait  ni  I'hSsitation  ni  la  crainte."  ^ 

'Les  ambassadeurs  voyageaient  a  grandes  journges,  afin  de 
joindre  Attila  avant  qu'il  eut  pass6  le  Po  ;  ils  le  rencontrferent  un 
peu  au-dessous  de  Mantoue,  dans  le  lieu  appele  Champ  Ambul^e, 
ou  se  trouvait  un  des  gu6s  du  Mincio.^  Oe  fut  un  moment  grave 
dans  Texistence  de  la  ville  de  Rome  que  celui  ou  deux  de  ses  en- 

1  Senex  innocuse  simplicitatis,  multa  canitie.  .  .  .—Id.  ibid.  Lors  de  la  trans- 
lation de  ses  reliques  on  trouva  que  son  corps  avait  sept  palmes  trois  quarts  de  hauteur. 
II  6tait  maigre  et  extenue. 

3  Proverbs  xxvlii.  1 ;  xxx.  80, 

3  In  Acroventu  Mamboleio,  ubiMincius  amnis  commeantium  frequentatione  tran- 
Bitnr.    Jornandes,  De  Eeb.  Get,  42.— Campus  Ambuleius. 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  215 

fants  les  plus  illustres,  un  reprgsentant  des  vieilles  races  latines  qui 
avaient  conquis  le  monde  par  I'^pee,  et  le  clief  des  races  nouvelles 
qui  le  conqueraient  par  la  religion,  venaient  mettre  aux  pieds  d'un 
roi  barbare  la  ran9on  du  Capitole.  Ce  fut  un  moment  non  moins 
grave  dans  la  vie  d'Attila.  Les  recits  qui  prSc^dent  nous  ont  fait 
voir  le  roi  des  Huns  domine  surtout  par  I'orgueil,  et,  si  avare  qu'il 
fut,  plus  alters  encol-e  d'honneurs  que  d'argent.  L'idge  d'avoir  si 
ses  genoux  Rome  suppliante,  attendant  de  sa  bouche  avec  trem- 
blement  un  arr^t  de  vie  ou  de  mort,  abaissant  la  toge  des  Val^rien 
et  la  tiare  des  successeurs  de  Pierre  devant  celui  qu'elle  avait  traits 
si  longtemps  comme  un  barbare  miserable,  employant  en  un  mot 
pour  le  flgcbir  tout  ce  qu'elle  poss6dait  de  grandeurs  au  ciel  et  sur 
la  terre ;  cette  idSe  le  remplit  d'une  joie  qu'il  ne  savait  pas  cacher. 
Se  faii'c  reconnaitre  vainqueur  et  maitre,  c'etait  a  ses  yeux  autant 
que  I'etre  en  effet ;  d'ailleurs  il  liumiliait  Aetius,  dont  il  brisait 
I'epSe  d'un  seul  mot.  Sa  vanite  et  celle  de  son  peuple  se  trou- 
vaient  satisfaites,  et  il  pouvait  repartir  sans  honte.  Sous  I'influ- 
ence  de  ces  pensees,  il  ordonna  qu'on  lui  amenat  les  ambassa- 
deurs  romains,  et  il  les  re9ut  avec  I'afFabilit^  dont  Attila  etait 
capable. 

'  Pour  cette  entrevue  solennelle,  les  negociateurs  avaient  pris 
les  insignes  de  leur  plus  haute  dignity ;  I'histoire  nous  dit  que 
LSon  s'^tait  rev^tu  de  ses  habits  pontificaux,  et  une  rSv^lation  de 
la  tombe  nous  a  fait  reconnaitre  en  quoi  ce  v^tement  consistait.' 
L^on  portait  une  mitre  de  sole  brochge  d'or,  arrondie  a  la  mani^re 
orientale,  une  chasuble  de  pourpre  brune,  avec  un  jDallium  orne 
d'une  petite  croix  rouge  sur  I'epaule  droite,  et  d'une  autre  plus 

1  Erat  indutus  pontificalibus  indumentis  .  .  .  super  liuraero  dextro  crux  parva 
rubri  colons.  .  .  .  Telle  est  la  descriptipn  des  vetemcnts  pontificaux  aveclesquels 
saint  L6on  fut  ensevell  et  qu'on  trouva  dans  sa  tombe  lors  de  la  translation  de  ses  re- 
liqucs.  On  en  pent  voir  tout  le  detail  dans  les  Bollandistes  a  la  date  du  11  avril. 
Nous  devons  a  ce  proces-verbal  de  translation  d'avoir  pu  decrire  le  costume  que  por- 
tait saint  Leon  a  Taudience  d'Attila,  puisque  c'etaient  la  ses  habits  pontificaux,  ct  que 
son  biograpbe  nous  dit  qu'il  aborda  le  roi  des  Huns  en  costume  pontifical,  augustiore 
hdbitu. 


210  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

grande  an  cotS  gauche  de  la  poitrine.  Sitot  qii'il  parut,  il  devint 
I'objet  dc  Tattention  et  des  provenances  du  roi  des  Huns.  Ce  fut 
lui  qui  cxposa  les  propositions  de  Tempereur,  du  sOnat,  et  du  pen- 
pie  romain.  En  quels  termes  le  fit-il  ?  Comment  parvint-il  ^  de- 
guiser  sous  la  dignit6  du  langage  ce  qu'avait  de  honteux  une  de- 
mande  de  paix  sans  combat  ?  comment  conserva-t-il  encore  a  sa 
ville  quelque  grandeur  en  la  montrant  a  genoux  ?  Par  quelle  in- 
spiration merveilleuse  sut-il  contenir  dans  les  bornes  du  respect 
ce  barbare  enfle  d'orgueil,  qui  faisait  payer  si  clier  sa  clemence  par 
la  moquerie  et  le  dedain  ?  S'il  invoqua  la  puissance  des  saints 
apotres  pour  proteger  la  cit6  gardienne  de  leurs  tombeaux,  s'il 
rappela  le  conquSrant  aux  sentiments  de  sa  x^ropre  fragility  par 
Texemple  de  la  fragilitS  des  nations,  nous  ne  pouvons  que  le  sup- 
poser  :  I'histoire  qui  nous  voile  si  souvent  ses  secrets,  a  voulu  nous 
derober  celui-la:  Un  clironiqueur  contemporain,  Prosi3er  d'Aqui- 
taine,  qui  fut  secretaire  de  LOon,  ou  du  moins  son  collaborateur 
dans  plusieurs  ouvrages,  nous  dit  seulement  "  qu'il  s'en  remit  sL 
Tassistance  de  Dieu,  que  ne  fait  jamais  dSfaut  aux  efforts  des 
justes,  et  que  le  succ^s  couronna  sa  foi."  Attila  lui  accorda  ce 
qu'il  gtait  venut  cherclier,  la  paix  moyennant  un  tribut  annuel,  et 
promit  de  quitter  I'ltalie.  L'accord  fut  conclu  le  6  juillet,  jour  de 
I'octave  des  apotres  saint  Pierre  et  saint  Paul.' 

The  position  of  the  Christian  hierarchy  after  the  invasions  is 
thus  pointedly  described  by  M.  Guizot,  Hist,  de  la  Civilisation  en 
France,  viii""*  le9on  : — 

*  Quand  les  barbares  se  furent  Otablis,  voici  dans  quelle  situa- 
tion se  trouve  I'eglise,  au  moins  ce  qu'elle  devint  bientot.  Les 
gveques  gtaient,  vous  le  savez,  les  chefs  naturels  des  villes  :  ils  ad- 
ministraient  le  peuple  dans  I'intSrieur  de  chaque  cite  ;  ils  le  reprg- 
sentaient  aupr^s  des  barbares ;  ils  gtaient  ses  magistrats  au-dedans 
ses  protecteurs  au-dehors.  Le  clergS  avait  clone  dans  le  regime 
municipal,  c'est-a-dire,  dans  ce  qui  restait  de  la  societe  romaine,  de 
profondes  racines.     II  en  poussa  bientot  ailleurs  ;  les  Sveques  de- 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  217 

vinrent  les  conseillers  des  rois  barbares.  lis  les  couseill^rent  sur 
la  conduite  qii'ils  avaient  a;  tenir  avec  les  jDeupIes  vaincus,  sur  ce 
qii'ils  devaieut  faire  pour  devenir  les  li^ritiers  des  erapereurs  ro- 
mains.  lis  ayaient  beaucoui3  plus  d'expgrience  et  d'iutelligence 
politique  que  les  barbares  a  peine  sortis  de  Germanic  ;  ils  avaient 
le  gout  de  pouvoir ;  ils  Staient  accoutumgs  ii  le  servir  et  a  en  pro- 
fiter.  lis  furent  done  les  conseillers  de  la  royautS  naissante,  en 
restant  les  magistrats  et  les  patrons  de  la  municipality  encore  de- 
bout. 

'  Les  voila  gtablis,  d'une  part  aupres  du  people,  de  Tautre  au- 
f>r^s  des  trones.  Ce  n'est  pas  tout ;  une  troisi^me  situation  com- 
mence bientot  jDour  eux  ;  ils  deviennent  de  grands  propriStaires  ; 
ils  entrent  dans  cette  organisation  lii^rarcliique  de  la  proprigtS 
fonciSre,  qui  n'existait  pas  encore,  mais  tendait  si  se  former ;  ils 
travaillent  et  r^ussissent  trfes-promptement  k  j  occuper  une 
grande  place.  En  sorte  qu'it  cette  gpoque,  dans  les  j^remiers  rudi- 
ments de  la  soci^tS  nouvelle,  d§j^  I'^glise  tient  k  tout,  est  partout 
accr6dit6e  et  puissante ;  symptome  assurS  qu'elle  atteindra  la  ]}re- 
mi^re  a  la  domination.     Ce  fut,  en  eflfet,  ce  qui  arriva.' 

Note  L.    Page  124. 

Tertullian,  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  century,  seems  to  be 
the  first  of  the  Christians  who  remarked  in  the  hostile  attitude  of 
the  Northern  barbarians  the  vengeance  which  might  j)ossibly  yet 
be  wreaked  upon  the  persecutors  of  his  faith.  Apol.  Adv.  Gent.  c. 
37  : — '  Si  enim  et  hostes  exsertos,  non  tantum  vindices  occultos 
agere  vellemus,  deesset  nobis  vis  numerorum  et  copiarum  ?  Plures 
nimirum  Mauri  et  Marcomanni,  ipsique  Parthi,  vel  quant^cunque 
unius  tamen  loci  et  suorum  finium  gentes,  quam  totius  orbis.' 

In  the  next  generation,  during  the  seventh  persecution,  Com- 
modianus,  writing  rude  verses  for  the  multitude,  makes  a  very 
shrewd  and  particular  prophecy  on  the  subject : — 


218  NOTES    AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

*SeJ  erit  initium  septima  persecutio  nostra. 
Ecce,  januam  pulsat  et  jam  cognoscitur  ense, 
Qui  cito  trajicict  Gothis  irrumpentibus  aiuBem. 
Eex  Apolyon  erit  cum  ipsis,  nomine  dirus, 
Qui  persecutiouem  dissipet  sanctorum  ;  in  armis 
Pergit  ad  Eomam  cum  multa  millia  gentis, 
Decretoque  Dei  captivat  ex  parte  subactos. 
Multi  senatorum  tunc  enim  captivi  deflebunt, 
Et  Deum  coelorum  blasphemant  a  barbaro  victi.' 

'  In  the  eyes  of  the  heathens,'  says  Kraflft  (Anfdnge,  &c.,  p.  3), 
'  the  fearful  onslaughts  of  the  barbarians  in  the  third  century,  in 
connection  with  repeatedly  recurring  plagues  and  famines,  ap- 
peared as  a  chastisement  of  the  gods,  whose  worship  had  fallen 
into  decay  in  many  parts  of  the  empire  through  the  diffusion  of 
Christianity.  In  replying  to  the  reproaches  of  the  Pagans  on  this 
head,  Cyprian  (circa  253)  recognises  the  barbarians  on  the  frontier 
among  the  signs  of  coming  evil  which  were  only  too  apparent. 
Cyprian,  Ad  Demetrianum.  See  also  the  tract  De  Mortalitate. 
Compare  Arnobius,  Adv.  Gentes,  i.  4.  16.' 

As  the  perils  of  the  empire  from  the  assaults  of  the  barbarians 
became  more  apparent,  while  the  Pagans  referred  all  their  calami- 
tics  to  the  anger  of  their  gods  at  the  prevalence  of  the  new  faith, 
the  Christians,  not  less  shocked  at  the  signs  of  the  times,  ascribed 
them  to  the  corruption  of  the  world,  which  as  they  expected  would 
suddenly  be  dissolved. 

'  When  upon  the  death  of  the  victorious  Theodosius  the  ene- 
mies of  Rome  arose  again  in  arms,  and  no  deliverer  appeared,  the 
thoughts  of  Chrysostom,  overpowered  as  he  was  by  the  terrors  of 
the  crisis,  reverted  to  the  idea  of  a  proximate  end  of  the  world. 
.  .  .  .  At  one  time  he  beheld,  in  wars,  tril^ulations,  and  earth- 
quakes, tokens  of  a  world  growing  old  and  nearing  its  dissolution, 
and  compares  them  with  the  innumerable  sufferings  with  which 
the  perishing  body  of  man  is  afflicted,  or  with  the  signs  that  pre- 
cede the  fall  of  a  house.    He  points  to  a  specific  period,  the  year 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTEATIONS.  219 

400  from  Christ : — "  Ita  si  tot  annorum  quaclringentesimum  esse 
finem  dixerimiis  iioii  aberrabimus."  Again  lie  sees  in  the  cahimi- 
ties  of  the  time,  its  famines,  plagues,  earthquakes,  and  wars,  a 
punishment  for  the  sins  of  mankind,  and  for  their  increasing  cor- 
ruption  The  day  of  fulfilment  delays  yet  a  while :  the 

Lord  hath  not  designated  it  expressly  to  His  apostles,  in  order 
that  they  might  keep  ever  on  the  watch. ^  Notwithstanding  this 
expectation  of  the  approaching  end,  Chrysostom  allows  himself, 
as  Patriarch  of  Constantinople,  to  persist  in  prosecuting  the  con- 
version of  the  Arian  Goths  to  the  Catholic  creed,  and  the  still 
heathen  barbarians  to  Christianity.  Yet  even  that  was  a  sign  of 
the  end :  the  Gosi)el  must  be  preached  to  all  nations.'  At  the 
same  time  Jerome  was  raising  his  lament  from  the  East  over  the 
calamities  of  the  day. 

'  Not  long  after  the  death  of  Theodosius,  in  the  year  396,  he 
writes  to  Heliodorus,  Bishop  of  Altinum^: — "For  twenty  years 
and  more  (since  375)  Koman  blood  has  flowed  daily  between  Con- 
stantinople and  the  Julian  Alps.  Scythia,  Thrace,  Macedonia, 
Dardania,  Dacia,  Thessalonica,  Achaia,  Epirus,  Dalmatia,  and  all 
Pannonia  are  devastated  by  the  fury  of  the  Goths,  the  Sarmatians, 
the  Quadi,  Alani,  the  Huns,  the  Vandals,  and  the  Marcomanni. 
How  many  matrons,  liow  many  holy  virgins,  have  been  made  the 
sport  of  these  monsters !  Bishops  have  been  captured,  priests  and 
other  clergy  slain,  churches  overthrown,  liorses  stalled  at  the  altars 
of  Christ,  and  the  remains  of  martyrs  rooted  up.  Everywhere 
sorrow  and  sighing  and  death  meet  the  eye.  The  Roman  Empire 
is  falling  to  pieces,  and  yet  our  stiff  necks  are  not  bowed : 

'  Xon  mini,  si  linguas  centum  sint,  oraque  centum, 
Ferrea  vox, 
Omnia  poenarum  percurrere  nomina  possim.' 

1  Homil.  xxxiv.  on  JoTi.  iv.  23  ff. ;  Homil.  on  2  Tim.  iii.  1 ;  Homil,  on  Maitli.  vU 
16;  Homil.  vii.  on  EpTiesians. 

2  Homil.  on  Matth.  vi.  16. 

3  Epist.  25.    Comp.  Epiet.  ad  Ageruchiam. 


220  NOTES    AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Long  htive  we  suffered  God's  wratb,  and  yet  appease  Him  not. 
Through  our  sins  the  barbarians  are  strong ;  for  our  crimes  the 
Roman  arms  are  overcome."     .... 

'  In  conclusion,  Jerome  would  wish  to  cast  a  glance  over  the 
world  as  from  a  watch-tower : — ''  Then  would  I  show  you  the  ruin 
of  the  whole  globe — people  at  war  with  people,  kingdom  with 
kingdom,  some  tortured,  others  slain,  some  swept  away  by  the 
waves,  others  carried  into  captivity  ....  in  short,  the  de- 
struction of  the  race  of  men  now  existing  upon  all  the  face  of  the 
earth." 

'  S.  Jerome  was  occupied  at  the  moment  with  the  exposition 
of  Ezekiel,  when  the  news  of  the  devastation  of  Italy  by  Alaric 
and  the  Goths,  the  siege  laid  to  Rome,  and  the  death  of  many  of 
his  friends,  was  reported  to  him.  Day  and  night  did  he  ponder 
on  the  fate  of  his  Christian  brethren,  and  hovered  between  hope 
and  fear.  When  at  last  he  learnt  the  fate  of  Rome,  "  That  the 
shining  light  of  the  world  was  extinguished,  and  the  head  of  the 
Roman  Empire  fallen  " — "  et  ut  verius  dicam  in  una  urbe  totus 
orbus  interiit," — then  was  he  struck  dumb  in  his  anguish,  and  laid 
by  his  work.  Once  he  writes  to  Marcellinus :  he  knew  not,  as  the 
proverb  says,  his  own  words,  and  kept  silence,  well  knowing  that 
it  was  the  time  for  tears.'    .     .     .  ,  . 

'  In  the  West  the  same  sorrowful  apprehensions  arose  of  the 
approaching  end  of  the  world,  as  the  dangers  which  menaced  the 
Roman  Empire  from  the  barbarians  drew  nigher  and  nigher.  S. 
Ambrose  imagined  that  in  the  Goths  who  threatened  Italy  he  be- 
held the  terrible  Gog  and  Magog  of  the  last  day,  foretold  by  Eze- 
kiel and  in  the  Apocalypse — a  conclusion  to  which  the  very  name 
of  the  Goths  may  have  helped  to  lead  him.' "...  — Krafft, 
Anfdnge^  p.  25,  foil. 

*  Prcefat.  in  Ezech. ;  Ejiist.  78,  ad  Marcellinum  et  Anapsychiam. 
'''  De  Fide,  Ad  Gratianum,  lib.  ii.  16  (a.d.  378,  379).    So  Jerome,  Liber  Qiicesiion. 
Rib)'.,  In  Genes,  (on  Genes,  s.) :  '  Scio  quendam  Gog  et  Magog  tarn  de  praosenti  loco 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTKATIONS.  221 


Note  M.    Page  126, 

After  describing  the  siege  and  sack  of  Rome  by  Alaiic  and  the 
Goths,  Zeller  {Antiquite  et  Moijen  Age,  p.  227,  foil.)  proceeds  to 
remark : — 

'  Ce  qui  est  plus  curieux  a  counaitre  que  les  details  de  ce  pil- 
lage de  la  ville  gternelle,  e'est  I'effet  que  cet  ev^nement  produisit 
dans  Tunivers  romain.  Les  deruiers  pai'ens  en  furent  atterrSs ; 
I'immobile  rocher  du  Capitole  avait  tremble ;  Virgile  avait  dit  eu 
vain: 

"  His  ego  nee  metas  rerum  nee  tempora  pono." 

'  Les  oracles  du  paganisme  et  ses  poetes  etaient  convaincus  de 
mensonge.  C'etaient  les  chrgtiens  qui  ayaient  Men  vu  et  veridi- 
quement  prgdit.  Un  cri  de  joie  s'gchappe  presque  de  leur  bouche. 
"  Depuis  longtemps,"  dit  saint  Augustin,  dans  une  lettre  a,  Victo- 
rianus,  "I'evangile  et  les  prophetes  avaient  predit  toutes  ces 
choses.  II  ne  nous  convient  pas  de  vous  mettre  en  contradiction 
avec  nous-memes,  de  croire  aux  proph^ties  que  nous  lisons  et  de 
nous  plaindre  de  leur  accomplissement.  Ce  sont  plutot  ceux  que 
sont  incr^dules  a  regard  des  saints  livres  qui  doiveut  aj  outer  foi  S 
lem-  verite,  maintenant  que  les  paroles  sacr6es  s'accomplissent." 
Un  Romain  accuse  Augustin  de  se  r^jouir  de  cette  fuueste  nou- 
velle,     "  Mon  coeur  afflige,"  repond-il,  "  et  ma  conscience  de  chrS- 

quam  de  Jezechiel  ad  Gotliorum  nuper  in  terra  nostra  bacchantium  historiam  retu- 
lisse:  quod  utrumTerum  sit,  prajliiipsius  fine  mon stratur.  Et  certe  Gothos  omaes 
retro  eruditi  magis  Getas  quam  Gog  et  Magog  appellare  consueverunt.'  But  he  re- 
verts again  to  this  derivation.  Praif.  is.  lib.  xi.  In  EzecMel.  Comp.  S.  Ambrose,  Ex- 
2josit.  Evang.  sec.  Luc.  lib.  q.    '  Yerborum  autem  coelestium  nulli  magis,  quam  nos, 

testes  sumus,  quos  mundi  finis  invenit ergo  quia  in  occasu  saiculi  sumus 

pr£ecedunt  quasdam  a?gritudines  mundi.    .(Egritudo  mundi  est  fames,  a?gritudo  mundi 
est  pestilentia,  segritudo  mundi  est  persecutio.'    See  also  Serm.  de  Bellico  Tumultu. 
Again:  Expos.  Ecan.  sec.  Zzic.  1.  c.    'Prsedicetur  Evangelium  et  sfeculum  destru- 
atur.'    Sicut  enim  prajcessit  in  orbera  terrte  evangelii  prsedicatio,  cui  jam  et  Gothi  et 
Armenii  credidcrunt,  et  ideo  mundi  finem  videmus,'  etc. 


OOQ 


NOTE'S   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


tien  i^rotestent ;"  mais  Paul  Orose,  son  disciple,  clans  son  Histoire 
Ecclesiastiqiie,  ne  dissimule  i)oint  ses  vrais  sentiments.  "  Pour 
qu'on  ne  doute  point,"  dit-il,  "que  ces  gvenements  se  sont  accom- 
plis  iDour  chatier  la  corruption  et  les  blasphemes  de  Rome,  la 
foudi'e  du  ciel  est  tombee,  pour  les  acliever,  sur  les  monuments 
remains  qu'ayaient  §j)argn6s  les  barbares."  ' 

See  also  p.  205,  foil.  :— 

'  On  a  accuse  I'eglise  chrgtienne  d'avoir  manque  de  patriotisme 
a  la  veille  de  ce  grand  cataclysme,  d'avoir  desespere  de  I'empire 
et  presque  appele  de  ses  voeux  les  barbares.  On  trouve,  en  effet, 
dans  les  gcrivains  clirgtiens,  plus  d'un  passage  qui  temoigne  de 
cette  esp^ce  de  dgcouragement  et  d'une  sorte  d'esp^rance  vague 
mSlge  cependant  de  crainte  en  face  de  I'invasion.  Mais  il  n'y  avait 
plus  r^ellement  de  patriotisme  dans  I'empire ;  il  avait  disparu  avec 
le  vieux  culte  romain,  Quand  un  nouveau  mallieur  arrivait,  com- 
bien  de  pai'ens,  avec  I'historien  Zosime,  dgnonyaient  I'abandon  de 
la  vieille  religion,  et  le  mepris  des  dieux  comme  la  cause  de  tout 
le  mal !  Le  sage  Ammien-Marcellin  seul  voit  autour  de  lui  trop 
de  causes  naturelles  de  ce  qui  arrive,  sans  en  cherclier  encore  de 
sm*naturelles.  Quand  il  nous  raconte  ces  gchecs  rgpgtSs  des  le- 
gions devant  les  barbares  ou  la  fin  miserable  d'un  empereur  ro- 
main brul6  par  eux  dans  une  cliaumiere,  il  laisse  bien  xoercer  de 
temj)s  en  temps  la  colore  du  vaincu ;  mais  sa  douleur  ne  I'em- 
peche  pas  de  reconnaitre  que  la  faute  en  6tait  toute  aux  Romains, 
aux  officiers,  et  aux  soldats.  Zosime  lui-m6me  ne  nous  avoue-t-il 
pas  que,  dans  certaines  provinces,  les  citoyens,  opprim^s  par  les 
exacteurs,  regardaient  la  conqu^te  du  pays  par  les  barbares  comme 
un  evSnement  heureux,  et  se  ri^signaient  a  une  invasion  qui  devait 
les  delivrer  du  malbeur  de  possSder  ? 

'En  rSalitS,  le  vieux  sentiment  national  de  Rome  s'etait  ^teint 
dans  une  sorte  de  cosmopolitisme  sans  grandeur,  et  I'eglise  sentait 
qu'elle  ne  pouvait  attacher  ses  destinies  au  colosse  qui  s'€croulait. 
Saint  Augustin  ecrit  au  milieu  des  ruines  son  livre  de  la  Cite  de 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  223 

Dieu,  societe  choisie  qui  accomplit  son  i)feleriuage  a  travers  les  mi- 
seres  de  cette  yie  pour  meriter  la  citS  celeste,  la  sainte  Jerusalem 
qu'il  r^ve  au-dela  de  la  mort.  Si  Lactance  s'^crie,  "  Comment  ne 
pas  craindre  que  la  soci^tS  ne  croule  j)as  avec  Rome  et  que  le 
monde  ue  pgrisse  dans  une  seule  ville  ?  "  le  nombre  des  Chretiens 
qui,  pgn^tres  de  la  lecture  de  I'Ecriture  sainte,  regardent  I'invasion 
comme  un  cliatiment  providentiel  des  crimes  des  paiens,  est  en- 
core bien  plus  considerable.  Saint  Jerome,  en  commentant  Ez6- 
chiel,  applique  ^  la  ville  de  Rome  les  propliSties  faites  contre  I'an- 
tiquc  Babylone.  On  ne  redoute  I'invasion,  dit  saint  Augustin, 
que  de  crainte  d'etre  arraclie  a  ses  vices.  Salvieu,  dans  son  curi- 
eux  livre  du  Oouvernement  de  Dieu^  n'h^site  i:)oint,  quand  il  com- 
pare les  barbares  aux  Romains,  a  declarer  ses  preferences:  "Vous 
pensez,"  dit-il  aux  Romains,  "  etre  meilleurs  que  les  barbares  ;  ils 

sont  MrStiques,  jDaiens,  dites-vous,  et  vous  6tes  orthodoxes 

Je  re]3onds  que  par  la  foi  nous  sommes  meilleurs,  mais,  par  notre 
vie,  je  dis  avec  larmes  que  nous  somme  pires.     Yous  connaissez  la 

loi  et  vous  la  voilez  ;  ils  sont  li^rgtiques  et  ne  le  savent  pas 

Et  nous  nous  €tonnons  que  Dieu  livre  nos  provinces  aux  barbares 
quand  leur  pudeur  purifie  la  terre  encore  toute  souillee  des  de- 
bauches romaines."  Tandis  que  les  bandes  de  Bagaudes,  form^es 
de  colons  r^voltes  et  de  citoyens  fuyant  devant  le  fisc,  donnent  la 
main  aux  barbares,  les  Chretiens  les  apjDellent. 

'  "  Les  barbares  viennent,"  dit  Salvien  aux  Romains,  "  et  vos 
desordres,  vos  crimes,  vous  out  tellement  abrutis  que  vous  ne 
craignez  meme  pas  le  danger  oii  vous  etes  ;  vous  ne  voulez  point 
p§rir  et  vous  ne  cherchez  point  votre  salut ;  les  barbares  sont  la  et 
vous  ne  songez  qu'a  manger,  ^  boire,  a  dormir.  Dieu  a  repandu 
sur  vous  ce  l^thargique  assoupissement  qui  est  la  pr(3lude  de  la 
mort.  Je  voudrais  faire  entendre  au  monde  entier  ces  paroles : 
Romains,  ayez  honte  de  tons  vos  vices ;  les  barbares  sont  plus 
forts  que  vous,  parce  qu'ils  sont  moins  vicieux ;  votre  faiblesse,  elle 
est  dans  vos  ames ;  vous  etes  vaincus  par  vos  vices.    Venez,  Goths, 


224  NOTES    AND   ILLUSTKATIOXS. 

Huns  et  Saxons ;  nous  avons  des  cliretiens,  ils  lisent  I'Evangile, 
mais  ils  font  la  debauclie ;  ils  ecoutent  les  apotres,  mais  ils  s'eni- 
vrent ;  ils  suivent  le  Christ,  mais  ils  sont  des  voleurs." 

'  On  ne  pent  pas  dire  cependant  que  PEglise  ait  trahi  I'Empire 
Eomain.  EUe  ne  d^serte  pas ;  elle  passe  par-dessus  les  Remains  et 
les  barbares  et  ne  voit  en  eux  que  des  hommes  a  convertir.  Saint 
Augustin  proteste,  dans  plus  d'un  endroit,  contre  la  lachetg  que 
montreraient  les  jDretres  s'ils  abandonnaient  leur  poste  devant  les 
malheurs  publics.  "  Ceux,"  dit-il,  "  qui  j)rennent  la  fuite  ou  qui 
ne  restent  que  par  la  force,  s'ils  viennent  a  etre  pris,  souffrent  pour 
eux-m^mes  et  non  pour  leurs  frires ;  la  crainte  des  maux  ne  doit 
pas  nous  faire  abandonner  notre  ministfere."  Et  il  devait  plus 
tard  lui-mSme,  Hippone  assi^gee  par  les  Vandales,  confirmer  ces 
paroles  par  sa  belle  mort. 

'  On  ne  pent  trouver  6tonnant  que  le  christianisme  n'ait  point 
confondu  ses  destinees  avec  celles  de  la  sociistg  romaine.  II  avait 
conquis  TEtat  sans  doute,  et  depuis  les  empereurs  jusqu'aux  es- 
claves,  il  dominait  toute  la  societe.  Mais  combien  d'empereurs,  si 
commencer  par  Constantin,  ne  I'avaient  pris  pour  un  instrument 
politique !  Que  de  fils  de  nobles  ou  de  riches  families  n'avaient 
vu  dans  la  foi  nouvelle  qu'un  moyen  de  parvenir ;  puis,  selon  les 
circonstances,  etaient  retournes  au  vicux  culte  !  Les  apostasies  de 
ce  genre  etaient  si  nombreuses  que  les  empereurs  se  croyaient 
obliges  de  les  punir  de  la  perte  des  droits  civils.  Les  livres  des 
Pferes  sont  pleins  de  lamentations  sur  ces  mauvais  Chretiens,  ces 
faux  convertis  qui  introduisent  dans  I'Eglise  leurs  superstitions, 
leur  indifference  ou  leur  impietS,  sur  ce  peuple  incorrigible  que  le 
retard  de  la  flotte  de  rfigypte,  chargSe  du  grain  des  distributions, 
suflS.t  pour  ramener  aux  sacrifices  de  Neptune,  et  qui,  a  I'gpoque 
des  Lupercales,  parcourt  nu  les  rues  de  la  ville,  frapj)ant  les 
femmes  pour  les  rendre  fecondes.  Le  mysticisme  chretien  avait 
alors  quelque  chose  de  trop  amollissant,  la  iDiet6  6tait  trop  detachSe 
de  la  terre  pour  rendre  au  patriotisme  romain  les  males  vertus  qui 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  225 

eussent  pu  saiiver  Tempire.  Mais  on  con9oit  que  I'Eglise  espgrat 
mieux  des  superstitions  barbares  moins  enracin^es,  et  de  moeurs 
plus  grossi^res,  mais  moins  corrompues.  Elle  se  disposait,  non  a 
sauver  I'empire,  mais  a»dorapter  Torgueil,  la  ferocite  des  vain- 
queurs,  ^  adoucir  les  miseres  des  vaincus,  et  a  preparer  leur  union 
dans  la  commune  patrie  du  cliristianisme.' 

If  what  lias  been  advanced  in  my  text  (Lecture  V.)  and  Note 
E,  regarding  the  reciprocal  action  of  Christianity  and  Paganism 
upon  each  other  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries  be  founded  in 
fact,  the  remarks  of  M.  Guizot  (Hktoire  de  la  Civilisation  en 
France.,  six™^  le9on)  may  be  considered  a  little  one-sided.  'C'est 
le  moment  ou  I'ancienne  philosophic  expire,  oii  commence  la 
th€ologie  moderne;  oii  Tune  se  transforme  pour  ainsi  dire  dans 
I'autre  ;  ovi  certaines  syst^mes  deviennent  des  dogmes,  certaines 
Scoles  des  sectes.  Ces  6poques  de  transition  sont  d'une  grande 
importance,  et  peut-etre,  sous  le  point  de  vue  historique,  les 
plus  instructives  de  toutes,'  True :  but  a  great  part  of  the  in- 
struction to  be  derived  from  such  history  regards  the  influence 
exerted  even  in  the  decline  and  disappearance  of  the  older  forms 
of  thought  upon  the  newer ;  an  influence  strongly  marked,  as  I 
conceive,  in  the  approximation  of  Christian  ideas  to  the  Pagan  at 
the  period  under  review. 

But  looking  at  the  question  from  M.  Guizot's  point  of  view, 
some  of  his  remarks  are  extremely  interesting. 

'  C'est  surtout  dans  le  midi  de  la  Gaule  que  ce  caract^re  du  v""^ 
siecle  se  manifesto  avec  Evidence.  Yous  avez  vu  quelle  activity  y 
regnait  dans  la  soci6t6  religieuse,  entre  autres  dans  les  monast^res 
de  Lerins  et  de  S.  Victor,  foyer  de  tant  d'opinions  hardies.  Tout 
ce  mouvement  d'esprit  ne  venait  pas  du  christianisme  :  c'etait  dans 
les  memes  contrees  ....  que  I'ancienne  civilisation  sur  son 
dSclin  s'Stait  pour  ainsi  dire  concentrSe  et  conservait  encore  le 

plus  de  vie Tout  atteste,  en  un  mot,  que,  sous  le 

point  de  vue  philosophique  comme  sous  le  point  de  vue  religieux, 
15 


226  XOTES    AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

la  Gaiile  romaine  et  grecque,  aiissi  bien  que  cliretienne,  Stait,  rl 
cette  gpoque,  en  Occident  clu  moins,  la  portion  la  plus  animge,  la 
plus  vivante  de  I'empire.  Aussi  est-ce  lit  que  la  transition  de  .la 
philosopliie  pai'enne  ai  la  tli^ologie  chretienne,  du  monde  ancicn  au 
monde  moderne,  est  le  j)lus  clairement  empreinte,  et  se  laisse  le 
mieux  observer 

'Ainsi  delate  le  fait  que  j'ai  indiqu6  en  commen9ant,  la  fusion 
de  la  philosophic  paienne  et  de  la  th^ologie  chr^itienne,  la  meta- 
morphose de  Tune  dans  I'autre.  Et  il  y  a  ceci  de  remarquable, 
que  I'argumentation  destinge  a  6tablir  la  spiritualite  de  I'ame  vient 
gvidemment  de  I'ancienne  philosophic  i)lus  que  clu  christianisme, 
et  que  I'auteur  (Mamert  Claudien)  semble  surtout  s'appliquer  si 
convaincre  les  theologiens  en  leur  prouvant  que  la  foi  chrStienne 
n'a  rien  en  ceci  qui  ne  se  concilia  a;  merveille  avec  les  rgsultats 
auxquels  conduit  la  raison Ce  que  Fancienne  philoso- 
phic conservait  de  force  et  de  vie  passait  au  service  des  chrStiens ; 
c'^tait  sous  la  forme  religieuse,  et  au  sein  mSme  du  christianisme, 
que  se  reproduisaient  les  id^es,  les  gcoles,  toute  la  science  des  plii- 
losophes 

'  C'est  la  le  mouvement  que  vinrent  arrSter  I'invasion  des  Bar- 
bares  et  la  chute  de  I'Empire  Komain :  cent  ans  plus  tard,  on  ne 
trouve  plus  aucune  trace  de  ce  que  je  viens  de  mettre  sous  vos 
yeux,  ....  toute  cette  activity  intellectuelle  de  la  Gaule,  au  vii"'' 
si^cle,  il  n'en  est  j)lus  question. 

'  La  perte  fut-elle  grande  ?  I'invasion  des  Barbares  gtouffa-t-elle 
un  mouvement  important  et  f^cond  ?  J'en  doute  fort.  Kappelez- 
vous  ce  que  j'ai  I'honneur  de  vous  dire  sur  le  caracttire  essentielle- 
ment  pratique  du  christianisme ;  le  progrt'S  intellectuel,  la  science 
proprement  dite,  n'etait  point  son  but ;  et  bien  qu'il  se  rattachat 
sur  plusieurs  points  Ti  I'ancienne  philosophic,  bien  qu'il  sut  s'ap- 
proprier  ses  id^es  et  en  tirer  bon  parti,  il  ne  s'inquigtait  gu^re  de 
la  continuer,  ni  de  la  rem^Dlacer :  changer  les  moeurs,  gouvemer  la 
vie,  telle  etait  la  pensge  dominante  de  ses  chefs 


NOTES   AND   ILLrSTRATIOXS.  227 

• '  Ce  que  riuvasion  des  Barbares  et  la  cliute  de  I'Empire  Romaia 
arrStereiit  surtout,  d^truisirent  m^me,  ce  fut  le  mouvement  intel- 
lectuel ;  ce  qui  restait  de  science,  de  pliilosopliie,  de  liberte  d'es- 
prit  au  V"*  siecle,  disparut  sous  leurs  coups.  Mais  le.  inouvement 
moral,  la  rgforme  pratique  du  christianisme,  et  rgtablissement  of- 
ficiel  de  son  autorite  sur  les  peuples,  n'en  furent  point  frapj^es ; 

peut-etre  meme  y  gaguerent-ils  au  lieu  de  perdre 

'  L'inyasion  des  Barbares  ne  tua  done  point  ce  qui  avait  vie  ; 
au  fond,  I'activitg  et  la  liberty  intellectuelles  6taient  en  decadence ; 
tout  porte  'd  croii'e  qu'elles  se  seraient  arret^es  d'elles-mgmes ;  les 
Barbares  les  arret^rent  plus  durement  et  plus  tot.  C'est  la,  je 
crois,  tout  ce  qu'on  pcut  leur  imputer.' 

Note  N.    Page  143. 

The  translation  given  in  the  text  was  made  from  memory,  but 
it  is  sufficiently  near  to  tlie  purport  of  the  well-known  passage  in 
Bede's  History,  the  speech  of  Coifi  on  the  preaching  of  S.  Paulinus 
before  the  King  of  Northumbria  (Hist.  Eccl.  ii.  13)  : — 

'  Talis  mihi  videtur,  rex,  vita  hominum  prsesens  in  terris  ad 
comparationem  ejus  quod  nobis  incertum  est  temporis,  quale  cum 
te  residente  ad  coenam  cum  ministris  tuis  tempore  brumali,  accen- 
so  qiiidem  foco  in  medio  et  calido  effecto  coenaculo,  furentibus 
autem  foris  per  omnia  turbinibus  hiemalium  pluviarum  vel  nivium, 
adveniensque  unus  passerum  domum  citissim^  ijervolaverit ;  qui 
cum  per  unum  ostium  ingrediens  mox  per  aliud  exierit.  Ipso 
quidem  tempore  quo  intus  est  hiemis  tempestate  non  tangitur,  sed 
tamen  parvissimo  spatio  serenitatis  ad  momentum  excurso,  mox 
de  hieme  in  hiemem  regrediens  tuis  oculis  elabitur.  Ita  hsec  vita 
hominum  ad  modicum  apparet ;  quid  autem  sequatur,  quidve  pr^e- 
ccsserit,  prorsus  ignoramus.  tJnde  si  hsec  nova  doctrina  certius 
aliquid  attulit,  merito  esse  sequenda  videtur.' 


228  NOTES   AIST)   ILLUSTKATIONS. 

Note  O.    Page  163. 

In  Menzel's  OescUcUe  der  Deutsdien^  there  is  a  special  chapter 
on  the  '  Respect  paid  to  Women  '  among  the  ancient  Germans. 
(Book  i.  chap.  19.) 

'  Im  heidnischen  Alterthume  wurden  die  Frauen  meist  verach- 
tet  mid  als  niedere  Wesen  angesehen.  Bei  den  Deutschen  aber 
standen  sie  schon  in  den  altesten  Zeiten  an  Ehre  den  Miinnern 
gleich,  ja  sie  wurden  in  mancher  Beziehung  sogar  als  hohere  We- 
sen angesehen.  Man  glaubte,  sagt  Tacitus,  es  sey  etwas  Heiliges 
und  Prophetisches  in  ihnen  (inesse  quia  etiam  sanctum  aliquid  et 
providum  putant).  Die  Frauenehre  ilbte  auf  Sitten  und  Gemiith 
der  Deutschen,  und  dadurch  auch  auf  ihre  Kunst  und  Poesie,  einen 
solchen  Einfluss,  class  hierin  vorziiglich  die  Quelle  des  sogenann- 
ten  Romantischen  zu  suchen  ist,  class  die  Eigenthlimlichkeit  der 
neueren  Kunst  und  Sitte  im  Gegensatz  gegen  die  orientalische  und 
griechisch-romische  oder  antike  geworden  ist. 

'  Die  alten  Deutschen  erkannten,  class  dieses  Heilige  in  den 
Frauen  von  der  hochsten  Reinheit  al)hinge.  Daher  war  in  ihren 
Sitten  und  Gesetzen  die  Wahrung  nicht  nur  der  aussern  Ehre, 
soudern  auch  der  innern  Unschuld  cles  weiblichen  Geschlechts  eine 
der  festesten  Grundregeln.  Schon  Tacitus  riihmt  diese  unver- 
brlichliche  Sittenstreuge  und  Heiligachtung  der  Keuschheit,  und 
sagt,  so  viel  er  an  den  Germanen  loben  miisse,  se}^  doch  diese  Sitt- 
lichkeit,  als  die  Grundlage  aller  andern  Volkstugenden,  am  meis- 
ten  zu  loben  (nee  ullam  morum  partem  magis  laudaveris). 

'  Die  Maclchen  wurden  in  Unschuld  aufgezogen,  unter  haus- 
lichen  Arbeiten,  fern  von  den  wilclen  Gelagen  der  Manner,  ausser 
wenn  sie  im  elterlichen  Hause  Gaste  bedienten.  Sie  kamen  erst 
spat  in  die  Ehe.  Ihre  kraftigere  Natur  entwickelte  sich  langsamer. 
Noch  jetzt  werden  die  Norcllancler,  und  besonders  die  noch  den 
alten  Sitten  treuer  gebliebenen  Gebirgsvolker,  spater  maunbar  als 
die  tippigeren  Sudlander  und  Stiidtebewohuer 


NOTES   AND   ILLrSTKATIONS.  229 

'  Yerbrechen  gcgen  die  wcibliclie  Ziicht  unci  Elire  wurclen  als 
unversolmlicli  angeselien  unci  bclianclelt.  Der  juugfrauliclie  Ehr- 
enkranz,  den  die  Braut  bci  der  Hochzeit  trug,  ist  wahrsclieinlich 
eine  uralte  Sitte  bei  den  Deutsclien.  Keine  durfte  ilin  tragen,  auf 
deren  Ebre  der  geringste  Makel-baftete.  Eine  erwiesene  Verleum- 
dung  in  dieser  Bezieliung  wurde  mit  ungewobnlicher  Hiirte  be- 
straft.  Gewalt  an  Jungfrauen  wurde  unter  alien  Umsttindcn  mit 
entelirendem  Tode  bestraft,  unci  nocli  ziemlicli  spat  im  Mittelalter 
ist  in  den  im  Scbwabenspiegel  gesammelten  Gesetzen  die  Verord- 
nung  enthalten,  in  einem  Hause,  wo  ein  solcher  Frevel  geschehen, 
alles  bis  auf  das  Vieh  umbriugen  unci  das  Haus  selbst  der  Erde 
gleicb  zu  maclien 

'Eine  der  sell onsten  unci  weisesten  Sitten  war  die,  dass  man 
den  Toclitern  keine  Mitgift  gab.  Sie  wurclen  daher  niclit  um  cles 
Yermogens,  sondern  uur  der  Tugend  unci  Sclionheitwillen  begebrt 
unci  zur  Elie  genommen.  Erst  in  der  spaten  cliristliclien  Zeit  ka- 
men  die  Ausstattungen  auf.  Zur  Zeit  cles  Tacitus  brachte  die 
Jungfrau  ilirem  Briiutigam  nur  einige  Wafifen  mit,  zur  Erinnerung, 
dass  er  sie  fiir  sie  fiihren  sollc.  Dagegen  musste  der  Briiutigam 
dem  Yater,  Bruder,  oder  sonstigem  Yormund  der  Braut  die  Yor- 
mundscbaft  oder  das  Becht,  sie  vor  Gericbt  zu  vertreten,  um  eine 
lierkonimliche  Summe  abkaufen.  Die  Yerlobten  wechselten  Hancl- 
scblag,  Kuss  unci  King.  In  der  lieiclnischen  Zeit  herrsclite  der 
Gebraucb,  drei  Niicbte  lang  zwischen  Neuvermalilte  ein  ])lanke3 
unci  scharfes  Schwert  zli  legen,  auf  einem  religiosen  Aberglauben. 
Die  Hochzeit  wurde,  wie  sclion  ihr  Name  zeigt,  als  hohe  Zeit,  als 
der  Hobepunkt  im  Lebeu,  so  offentlich  als  moglich  und  mit  gros- 
sem  Jubel  vieler  Giiste  gefeiert.  Nach  der  Hocbzeit  gab  der  junge 
Ehemann  der  jungen  Frau  ein  Gescbenk,  die  Morgengabe  genannt, 
das  ibr  eigen  blieb  bis  an  cleu  Tod,  und  das  Niemand  wiedemeh- 
men  oder  abstreiten  durfte,  wenn  sie  nur  mit  der  Hand  auf  der 
Brust  beschwor,  es  sey  ilire  Morgengabe 

'Der  Eliebrucb  war  sd  unversobnlich  wie  die  Beleidigung  der 


230  NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

JungfraiieB.  Wollte  der  Mann  die  eliebrecheriscbe  Fran  niclit 
selber  sogleicli  todten,  so  wurde  sie  nackt  mit  geschornem  Haui^t 
aus^wdejn  Hause  gestossen  iind  von  den  Naclibarinnen  fortge- 
peitsclit  yon  Ortscliaft  zu  Ortscliaft,  bis  sie  liegen  blieb.  Schon 
Tacitus  lobt  diese  Sitte,  idie  audi  nocli  viel  spiiter  bei  den  Sacliseu 
sicli  erlieilt.  .  .  .  \* 'Die  alteu  Deutsclien  liielten  die  Sclionung 
der  sogenannten  H^i^ensscliwaclien  niclit  fur  so  dringend,  um  da- 
riiber  die  oflfentliclien  Sitten  erstlilaflfen  und  ein  ganzes  Volk  lie- 
derlich  werden  zu  lassen.  ;Als  sTe  mit  den  Roniern  niiher  bekaunt 
wurden,  und  man  ilmen  bestandig  sagte,  ilire  Keuschlieit  war  bar- 
bariscli,  sie  seyen  viel  zu  streng,  da  nahm  das  burgundisclie  Ge- 
setz  auf  diese  Vorwiirfe  Eiicksiclit,  und  fiigte  die  Verordnung, 
dass  Ehebruch  nach  wie  vor  unnacbsiclitlicli  mit  dem  Tode  ge- 
straft  werden  solle,  die  denkwlirdigen  Worte  liinzu  :  ''  Denn  es  ist 
gerecliter,  dass  Alle  durch  die  Verurtheilung  weuiger  gebessert 
werden,  als  dass  unter  dem  Vorwand,  die  alte  Barbarei  zu  verd- 
riingen,  nur  Gelegenlieit  zi^  Lastern  gegeben  werde."  Darum 
riilimte  man  auch  von  den  Gothen  und  Vandal  en,  dass  sie  niclit 
nur  selbst  keusch  geblieben  sind,  sondern  sogar  audi  die  verdorbe- 
nen  Romer  wieder  keusch  gemaclit  liatten. 

'  Die  altdeutsdien  Fraueu  wurden  so  geaclitet,  dass  man  sie  im 
Wergeld  holier  scbatzte  als  die  Manner,  bei  Allemanneu  und  Bay- 
ern  nocli  einmal,  bei  Franken  und  Thiirkigern  dreimal  so'lio'cli, 

und  nocli  lioher  wenn  sie  guter  Hoffnung  waren Alle 

Frauen  durften  Waffen  -fiiliren,  wenn -sie  sie  zu  brauclien  verstan- 
den.  Hire  Stimme  wurde  im  Rath  der  Manner  gehort.  Kluge  ■ 
Frauen  standen  niclit  selten  an  der  Spitze  grosser  Unternelimun- 
gen.'     ...•.■. 

•  The  chivalrous  feelings  of  respect  towards  women,  which  form 
so  marked  an  element  in  Teutonic  life  in  the  middle  ages,  are 
traced  by  the  antiquarians  to  the  notion,  common  among  the  prim- 
itive German  races,  of  a  close  intercourse  between  the  flower  of 
their  heroes  and  the  superior  female  existences,  to  whom  they  gave 
the  name  of  Walkyren. 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS.  231 

'  Walkyren  waren  die  himmlisclieii  Madclien,  von  denen  die 
iiralten  Deutsclien  glaubten,  dass  sie  jede  Schlaclit  umscliwebten, 
die  Helden  aiiswahlten,  "welclie  fallen  sollten,  imd  dann  mit  ihnen 
in  Walhalla  als  ihren  ewigen  Geliebten  himmlische  Freiiden  gen- 
ossen.  Dalier  war  dem  Helden  jeder  Tod  auf  dem.  Sclilaclitfeld 
ein  Brautfest  fiir  den  Himmel.  Aber  aucli  irdische  Jungfrauen 
dachte  man  sicli  als  Walkyren,  wenn  sie  die  Riistung  anlegten  und 
Scliildjungfrauen  wurden.  Das  zarte  poetische  Verhaltniss  des 
heidnisclien  Helden  zu  seiner  liimmliscTien  Geliebten  ging  spater 
in  das  Verhaltniss  des  cliristliclien  Helden  zu  seiner  Dame  iiber, 
und  diese  war  niclit  immer  eiue  irdische  Dame,  sondern  die  hei- 
lige  Jungfrau  oder  eine  andere  Heilige.  Die  romantische  Liebe 
des  Mittelalters,  der  schwarmerische  Ritterdienst,  der  gottlichen 
Wesen,  oder  unbekannten,  oder  stolzen  und  ewig  undankbaren 
Damen  gewidmet  war,  und  das,  was  man  im  edeln  Sinne  den  Min- 
nedienst  und  die  Galanterie  nannte,  hatte  seinen  ersten  Ursprung 
aus  dem  schouen  lieidnischen  Glauben  an  die  Walkyren.'  (Men- 
zel,  GescMchte  der  Deutschen^  book  i.  chap.  20.) 


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The  author  of  this  work  holds  a  unique  position  among  the  thinkers  of  the 
age.  Hebriiiijs  to  the  discussion  ofmau  and  Nature,  and  the  higher  problems  of 
human  life,  the  latest  and  most  thorough  scientific  preparation,  and  constantly 
employs  the  later  dynamic  philosophy  in  dealing  with  them.  But  he  is  broader 
than  the  scientific  school  which  he  recognizes,  but  wifli  him  the  moral  and 
religious  elements  of  ra'an  are  supreme.  He  conjoins  strict  science  with  hish 
spirituality  of  view.  "■  Man  and  his  Dwelling-PJace  "  is  here  rewritten  and  coiii- 
pressed,  and  present^  in  a  pointed  and  attractive  style  original  aspects  of  the 
most  engaging  questions  of  the  time. 

A  MANUAL  OF  THE  AITATOMY   OF  YEETE- 

^  BRATED  ANIMALS.  By  Thomas  H.  Huxley,  LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S. 
1  vol.,  12mo.  Illustrated.  Price,  $2.50. 
"This  long-expected  work  will  be  cordially  welcomed  by  all  students  and 
teachers  of  Comparative  Anatomy  as  a  compendious,  reliable,  and,  notwithstand- 
ing'its  small  dimensions,  most  comprehensive  guide  on  the  subject  of  which  it 
treats.  To  praise  or  to  criticise  the  work  of  so  accomplished  a  master  of  his 
favorite  science  would  be  equally  out  of  place.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  it  realizes 
in  a  remarkable  degree  the  anticipations  which  have  been  formed  of  it ;  and  that 
it  presents  an  extraordinary  combination  of  wide,  general  views,  with  the  clear, 
accurate,  and  succinct  statement -of  a  prodigious  number  of  individual  facts.''— 
Nature. 

THE  WOKLD  BEFOEE  THE  DELUGE.     By  Lons 

PiGuiER.     The  Geological  portion  newly  revised  by  H.  W.  Bristow, 
F.  R.  S.,  of  the  Geological  Survey  of  Great  Britain,  Hon.  Fellow  of 
King's  College,  London.     With  235  Illustrations.     Being  the  first 
volimie  of  the  new  and  cheaper  edition  of  Figuier's  worlis.     1vol., 
small  8vo.     Price,  $3.50. 
The  ^^/imcewm  says :  "  We  find  in  'The  World  before  the  Deluge'  a  book 
worth  a  thousand  gilt  Christmas  volumes,  and  one  most  suitable  as  a  gift  to  in- 
tellectual and  earnestly  inquiring  stitdents." 

N.  B.— In  the  new  edition  ot"^"  The  W^orld  before  the  Deluge,"  the  text  has 
been  again  thoroughly  revised  by  Mr.  Bristow,  and  many  important  additions 
made,  the  result  of  the  recent  investigations  of  himself  and  his  colleagues  of  the 
Geological  Survey. 

The  oilier  volumes  of  ihe  new  and  cheaper  edition  of  Figuier's  Works 
will 'be  issued  in  the  following  order : 

THE  YEGETABLE  WORLD.     From  the  French  of 

Louis  FiGUiER.  Edited  by  C.  0.  G.  Napier,  F.  G.  S.  With  471 
Illustrations.     Cloth.     Price,  $3.50. 

THE  mSECT  WORLD.     A  Popular  Account  of  the 

Orders  of  Insects.  From  the  French  of  Louis  Figuier.  Edited  by 
E.  W.  Jansbn.     With  570  Illustrations.     Cloth.     Price,  $3.50. 

THE  OCEAIST  WORLD.     A  Descriptive  History  of 

the  Sea  and  its  Inhabitants.  From  the  French  of  Louis  Figuier. 
Edited  by  G.  0.  G.  Napier,  F.  G.  S.  With  427  Illustrations.  Cloth. 
Price,  $3.50. 

REPTILES    AIS^D   BIRDS.     From  the   French  of 

Louis  Figuier.  Edited  by  Parker  Gilmore.  With  307  Illustra- 
tions.    Cloth.     Price,  $3.50. 


549  &  551  Broadway,  New  Yokk. 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  NEW  WOEKS. 


PKE-HISTOEIO  TIMES,  AS  ILLUSTRATED  BY 

ANCIENT  REMAINS,  AND  THE  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 
OF  MODERN  SAVAGES.  By  Sir  John  Lubbock,  Bart.  1  vol., 
8vo,  640  pages.     Illustrated.     Price,  $5.00. 

"A  work  of  more  than  usual  interest,  in  which  he  has  dealt  with  a  very  dif- 
ficult subject  in  the  most  scientific,  but  at  the  same  time  in  the  most  allurino; 
manner.    .    .    .  ''''—Times. 

"  As  a  history  of  the  discoveries  which  have  been  madt,  and  as  a  resume  of 
our  present  knowledge  of  pre-historic  men,  it  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired.  It 
cannot  be  read  but  with  interest  and  \)\Qa.?,urQ.— Standard. 

"  The  chapter  on  the  '  Antiquity  of  Man'  shows  a  marvellous  range,  a  mastery 
of  the  antiquarian,  geological,  astronomical,  and  physical  branches  of  the  subject, 
and  no  English  resume  so  complete  of  the  facts  of  the  old  and  new  Stone  ages, 
and  of  the  Bronze  age,  is  elsewhere  to  be  found."— 752(7. 

"  The  book  ranks  among  the  noblest  works  of  the  interesting  and  important 
class  to  which  it  belongs."— ^i^/im^Bwrn. 

"Those  who  desire  a  compact  and  careful  review  of  the  whole  subject,  well 
illustrated,  will  find  it  in  this  volume."— /6ecZ. 

*'0n  the  subject  of  pre-historic  Archaeology  it  is  not  only  a  good  book  of  refer- 
ence, but  the  he&V— Nature. 

MABEL  LEE.   A  Novel.   By  the  Author  of  "  Valerie 

Aylmer,"  "  Morton  House,"  etc.     With  Illustrations.     1  vol.,  8vo. 

Price,  paper  covers,  $1 ;  cloth,  $1.50. 
"Mabel  Lee,"  like  the  other  works  of  this  young  and  popular  authoress,  is  a 
story  of  Southern  life  and  character.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Virginia,  and  after- 
ward in  South  Carolina,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  South  are  well 
delineated.  The  plot,  Avhich  is  highly  interesting,  turns  in  a  great  degree  on  the 
mysterious  and  abnormal  influences  which  have  of  late  years  attracted  so  much 
attention  under  their  various  forms  of  animal  magnetism,  mesmerism,  or 
spiritualism. 

CHPJST  m  MODEKN  LIFE.     Sermons  preached  in 

St.  James's  Chapel,  York  Street,  St.  James's  Square,  London.     By 

Rev.  Stopford  A.  Brooke,  M.  A.     1  vol.,  12mo,  408  pages.     Price, 

82.00. 

"  The  main  thought  which  underlies  this  volume  is  enthroned  in  the  first 

two  sermons,  and  is  this :  That  the  ideas  which  Christ  made  manifest  on  earth 

are  capable  of  endless  expansion,  to  suit  the  wants  of  roan  in  every  age;  and 

that  they  do  expand,  developing  into  new  forais  of  larger  import  and  wider 

application,  in  a  direct  proportion  to  that  progress  of  mankind  of  which  thoy 

are  both  root  and  sap.    If  we  look  long  and  earnestly  enough,  we  shall  find  in 

them  (pot  read  into  them,  as  some  say)  the  explanation  and  solution  not  only  of 

our  rehgious,  but  even  our  political  and  social  problems.    Nor  do  they  contradict 

the  ideas  which  direct  scientific  research,  nor  those  which  have  been  generalized 

from  the  results  of  that  research,  but  are  in  essential  analogy  with  both  one  and 

the  oi^xGr.""— Extract  from  Preface. 


549  &  551  Beoadwat,  Ne-w  Yowc 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  NEW  WORKS. 


PKINCIPLES  OF  GEOLOGY;    OK,  THE  MOD- 

ERN  Changes  of  the  Earth  and  its  Inhabitants  Considered  ^a 
Illustrative  op  Geology.  By  Sir  Charles  Ltell,  Bart,,  M.  A., 
r.  R.  S.  Eleventh  and  entirely  revised  edition.  In  two  volumes. 
Illustrated  with  Maps,  Plates,  and  Woodcuts.  670  pages  each 
Price,  §8.00. 

"  There  has  been  an  interval  of  five  years  between  the  last  and  present  edition  of 
the  first  volume  of  the  '  Pi-inciples  of  Geology.'  During  this  time  much  discussion  has 
taken  place  on  important  theoretical  points  bearing  on  meteorology  and  climate,  and 
much  new  information  obtained  by  deep-sea  dredging,  in  regard  to  the  temperature 
and  shape  of  the  bed  of  the  ocean,  and  its  living  Inhabitants. 

"  The  changes  made  in  the  tenth  edition  were  so  numerous  and  important,  that  I 
have  thought  it  best  to  reprint  the  preface  to  the  edition  in  fuU,  thereby  giving  the 
reader  the  opportunity  of  knowing  what  advance  has  been  made  in  the  work  since 
1S53,  when  the  ninth  edition  appeared.  The  pages  of  additions  and  corrections  given 
in  that  preface  correspond  so  nearly  to  those  of  the  present  volume,  that  the  passages 
referred  to  may  be  always  found  by  turning  a  few  pages  backward  or  forward.— 
Extract  from  Preface. 

A    POPULAE    EDITIOI^    OF    THE    LIFE    OF 

DANIEL  WEBSTER.  By  George  Ticknor  Curtis.  Illustrated 
with  elegant  Steel  Portraits,  and  fine  Woodcuts  of  different  Views  at 
Franklin  and  Marshfield.     In  two  vols.     Small  8vo.     Price,  $6.00. 

"  It  may  be  considered  great  praise,  but  we  think  that  Mr.  Curtis  has  written 
the  Life  of  Daniel  Webster  as  it  ought  to  be  Avritten."— 5osto?i  Courier, 

"  It  is  a  work  which  will  eventually  find  its  way  Into  every  Ubrary,  and  almost 
every  family."— /S<.  Lmcis  Eepublican. 

"  We  believe  the  present  work  to  be  a  most  valuable  and  important  contri- 
bution to  the  history  of  American  parties  and  politics."— i<?;i(?o?i  Saturday  Review. 

"  The  author  has  made  it  a  very  readable  volume,  a  model  biography  of  a 
most  gifted  man,  wherein  the  intermingling  of  the  statesman  and  lawyer  with 
the  husband,  father,  and  friend,  is  painted  so  that  we  feel  the  reality  of  the  pict- 
ure."— Journal  of  Cominerce. 

"  Of  Mr.  Curtis's  labor  we  wish  to  record  our  opinion,  in  addition  to  what  we 
have  already  said,  that,  in  the  writing  of  this  book,  he  has  made  a  most  valuable 
contribution  to  the  best  class  of  our  literature."— iV.  Y.  Tribune,. 


BEETON^'S      EYEKY-DAY     COOKERY      KET> 

HOUSEKEEPING  BOOK :  Comprising  Instructions  for  Mistresses 
and  Servants,  and  a  Collection  of  over  Fifteen  Hundred  Practical 
Recipes.  With  104  Colored  Plates,  showing  the  Proper  Mode  of 
sending  Dishes  to  Table.  1  vol.,  12mo.  Half  bound.  404 
pages.     Price,  $1.50. 

"  Mrs.  Beeton  has  brought  to  her  new  ofiferins:  to  the  public  a  most  anxious 
care  to  describe  plainly  and  fully  all  the  more  difficult  and  recondite  portions  of 
cookery,  while  the  smallest  items  have  not  been  'unconsidered  trifles,'  but  eaci 
recipe  and  preparation  has  claimed  minute  attention." 


549  &  551  Broadway,  New  York 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  NEW  WOKKS. 


A  NEW  AND  CHEAPEE  EDITION  OF  SOUTH- 

SEA  BCBBLES.  By  the  Earl  and  the  Doctor.  1  vol.,  12mo. 
Cloth.     Pxice,  $l'.oO. 

•*The  freshest,  "breeziest  book  of  travel  that  has  appeared  for  many  a  day,  is  '  South- 
Bm  Bubbles,  by  tho  Earl  and  the  Doctor.'  It  is  the  voyages  in  bewitching  Polynesia 
of  Lord  Pembroke  and  Dr.  Kingsley.  The  Sandwich  Islands  are  the  especial  dehght 
of  both  voyagers."— iS''.  Y.  Herald 

"  Life  in  the  Society  Islands,  and  in  the  adjacent  groups  of  coral-girt  islands,  has 
never  been  more  spii-itedly  etched,  tmless  it  be  in  the  sketches,  now  nigh  forgotten, 
which  we  owe  to  the  picturesque  pen  of -our  countryman,  Herman  Melville."— C7«'iS^ian 
Union. 

TEXT-BOOKS   OF  SCIENCE,  now  m  Course  of 

Publication.  In  12mo,  containing  about  300  pages  each.  Price, 
$1.50  each,  bound  in  cloth.  A  Series  of  Elementary  Works  on 
Science — Mechanical  and  Physical — adapted  for  the  Use  of  Artisans 
and  Students.  ,  _.        . 

I.  METALS:  their  Properties  and  Treatment.  By  Cha.ules 
Loudon  Bloxam,  Professor  of  Chemistry  in  King's  College;  With 
105  Figures  on  Wood.     Price,  $1.50.         , 

"  With  such  a  manual  as  this,  no  difficulty  will  be  found  in  gaining  some  knowledge 
of  the  wonderful  processes  by  which  man  wms  from  the  earth  the  precious  and  usefiil 
metals,  and  converts  them  to  his  use  in  almost  numberless  •ways.''''— Scotsma7i. 

IL  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  INORGANIC 
CHEMISTRY.  By  William  Allen  Miller,  M.  D.  With  71  Figures 
on  Wood.     Price,  $1.50. 

"  This  text-book  of  inorganic  chemistry  is  one  of  the  most  useful  elementary  manu- 
tls  we  have  met  with  for  a  long  time." — Philosopliical  Magazine. 

HI.  THEORY  OF  HEAT.  By  J.  Clark  Maxwell,  M.  A.,  Pro. 
fessor  of  Experimental  Physics  in  the  University  of  Cambridge. 
Price,  $1.50. 

"  (Considered  as  addressed  tc  students  already  weU  trained  in  something  more  than 
the  elements  of  mathematics,  and  familiar  with  the  fundamental  laws  of  mechanics,  it 
would  be  hard  to  name  a  hei'iAv'book.''''— Philosophical  Magazine. 


549  &  551  Broadway,  New  Yobk. 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  NEW  WORKS. 


■GANOT'S  NATUEAL  PHILOSOPHY,  foe  Gen- 

ERAL  Readers  and  Young  Persons.  Translated,  with  the  author's 
sanction,  by  Dr.  E.  Atkinson.  1  vol.,  12mo.  With  Frontispiece 
and  404  Woodcuts.    Price,  $3.00. 

'■*  The  present  work  has  its  origin  in  an  attempt  to  comply  with  a  suggestion  which 
Bft«  frequently  been  made  to  me,  that  I  should  prepare  an  abridged  edition  of  my 
translation  of  Ganofs  '  Elements  de  Physique,'  which  could  be  used  for  purposes  of 
more  elementary  instruction  than  that  work,  and  in  which  the  use  of  mathematical 
formulae  would  be  dispensed  •mthySxtractfrom  Preface. 

A.  SEYE¥  MONTHS'  EUN,  UP,  AND  DOTra", 

AND  AROUND  THE  WORLD.  By  James  Brooks.  1  vol.,  12^mo. 
Cloth. 

"  It  is  a  very  hvely,  brightly-written  work.  It  glances  at  the  places  seen  and  the 
persons  encountered  in  a  fi-ee,  brisk  manner,  that  is  often  more  effective  than  labored 
and  elaborate  description— just  as  an  artist's  free  sketch  has  more  breadth  and  genuine 
revelation  of  the  scene  than  the  overworked  canvas.  Mr.  Brooks  touches  every  pict- 
ure with  a  sort  of  high  hght,  that  catches  the  spirit  of  the  scene  in  a  phrase,  and  these 
phrases  are  usually  the  happy  inspiration  of  the  moment,  dotted  down  in  pencil  on  bits 
of  paper,  and  in  this  form  transmitted  to  the  Express  for  publication,  from  the  columns 
of  which  they  are  transfeiTcd  to  the  book  without  change.  It  is  a  very  readable  volume." 

THEEE  CENTUKIES  OF  MODERN"  HISTOEY. 

By  Charles  Drake  Yonge,  Professor  of  Modern  History  in  Queen's 
College,  Belfast.     1  vol.,  12mo.     Cloth.    Price,  $2.00. 

"  The  object  with  which  the  present  work  has  been  undertaken  is  to  give  the  youth- 
ful student  some  idea  of  the  general  history  of  Continental  Europe  in  what  may  be 
called  modern  times.  It  is  not  designed  to  present  a  complete  history  of  any  one 
country,  nor  even  of  any  one  period  in  the  history  of  any  country.  It  may  be  com- 
pared to  a  skeleton  chart  of  Europe,  oi:  which  the  boimdaries  of  the  different  countries, 
the  courses  of  a  few  great  rivers,  and  the  situation  of  some  of  the  chief  cities,  are 
marked  out  sufficiently  to  guide  the  student  in  filling  up  the  outline ;  but  which,  for  a 
more  precise  knowledge  of  any  separate  country,  leaves  him  to  consult  maps  more 
elaborately  filled  up." 

THE    SPY;    A    Tale   of   the    ITeuteal    Geotjnd. 

By  James  Fenimore  Cooper.  Being  the  first  volume  of  a  new 
Library  Edition  of  Cooper's  Novels.  WeL  printed,  and  bound  in 
brown  cloth,  gilt  side  and  back.     Price,  $1.25  per  volume. 

"  The  enduruig  monuments  of  Fenimore  Cooper  are  his  works.  So  truly  patriotlo 
and  American  throughout,  they  should  find  a  place  in  every  American's  Ubraiy."— 
Daxiel  Webstbb. 


549  &,  561  Broadway,  New  Tork. 

D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  NEW  WORKS. 


A.    WOMAN'S    EXPEEIENCES     IN    EUKOPE, 

Including  England,  France,  Germany,  and  Italy.  By  Mrs.  E.  D 
Wallace,  author  of  *'  Strife :  a  Romance  of  Germany  and  Italy," 
etc.     1  vol.,  12mo.     Cloth.     Price,  $1.50. 

"  The  first  question  my  readers  will  naturally  ask  is  one  that  I  have  heard  repeated 
till  I  am  quite  used  to  it.  What  object  could  induce  a  woman  to  travel  so  far  alone  ? 
Many  of  my  readers  are  already  familiar  with  my  favorite  motto:  'War  not  with 
necsssitj-.'  It  was  not  to  gratify  the  desire  for  travel— that  was  -nith  Ida  Pfeiflfer  an 
inborn  propensity.  It  was  not  even  a  matter  of  choice  with  me.  A  crisis  in  my  Ufe 
had  come,  when  I  must  face  the  world  alone,  and  resolve  bravely  to  meet  all  exigencies 
of  fate  or  fortune,  or  succumb  to  a  crushing  sorrow,  and,  with  paralyzed  energies,  prove 
a  Sony  burden  to  those  who  had  a  right  to  claim  my  interest  in  their  well-being.  God 
gave  me  strength  to  resolve  wisely.  I  left  every  friend  who  knew  my  sorrow,  and,  in 
the  Old  World,  away  from  all  reminding  sympathy,  I  conquered  myself,  an^  returned 
home  with  materials  for  worA;— better  than  any  medicine;  and,  for  the  profit  and 
amusement  I  afford  to  others,  I  am  a  thousandfold  repaid  in  the  pleasing  task  of  com- 
municating what  I  saw  and  felt  in  my  wanderings." 

COMETH    UP    AS   A  FLOWER.      An  Autobiog- 

RAPHT.  By  a  Lady.  New  edition.  1  vol.,  12mo.  Cloth.  Price. 
$1.50. 

"  It  is  written  by  a  lady,  and  is  said  to  be  so  extraordinarily  good,  that  whencvei 
f  ou  begin  it  you  cannot  lay  it  doA^oi  agaia — not  even  when  it  is  finished." — Cor.  A^.  Y. 
Daily  Times. 

"  A  strikingly  clever  and  original  tale,  the  chief  merits  of  which  consist  of  the  pow- 
erful, vigorous  manner  of  its  telling,  in  the  exceeding  beauty  and  poetry  of  its  sketches 
of  scenery,  and  in  the  sofiloquies,  sometimes  quaintly  humorous,  sometimes  cjmically 
bitter,  sometimes  plaintive  and  melancholy,  which  are  uttered  by  the  heroine.''''— Times. 

PEACTICAL  HOESESHOEIlSrG.     By  G.  Fleming, 

F.  R.  G.  S.,  President  of  the  Central  Veterinary  Medical  Society ; 
author  of  "  Travels  on  Horseback  in  Mantchu  Tartary,"  etc.  With 
29  Illustrations.     1  vol.,  12mo.     Cloth,  limped.     Price,  '75  cents. 

This  treatise  received  the  first  prize  from  the  Scottish  Society  for  the  Prevention  of 
Ottielty  to  Animals. 

A    NEW    EDITIOIT    OF     THE     STRATFOED 

SHAKESPEARE.  With  gilt  stamp  of  the  Ward  Statue  in  the  N. 
Y.  Central  Park.  The  Stratford  Shakespeare.  Edited  by  CnARLKa 
Knight.  6  vols.,  small  8vo,  large  type,  elegantly  printed  on  tinted 
paper.     Price  in  clcth,  gilt  top,  $10.00 ;  half  calf,  $20.00. 


Date  Due 

.-E17'54 

Mh-"^^ 

^ 

